


A Wondrous Adventure

by Ael_tRlailiiu



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Minor Original Character(s), brief appearances by Rumple and Regina but not much of a role
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-02 21:29:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10953078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ael_tRlailiiu/pseuds/Ael_tRlailiiu
Summary: This is my attempt to make 6b what I wanted it to be -- a celebration of my favorite in-show relationship leading up to their wedding -- and to fix a few other things along the way.The divergence begins in “Murder Most Foul”, where there was no snooping, no ring-finding, and no Killian killing Charming’s father in a meaningless and out of character encounter. There WAS a fight; however, it was about something altogether different.





	1. Chapter 1

It was a stupid fight to begin with. The enormity of her mistake hit Emma as soon as the door closed behind Killian. The house lights flickered with the surge of emotion. Minutes passed while she fought herself. When the danger had passed, she stood for another moment leaning against the door, shaking.

"Son of a bitch."

Emma pushed herself upright, grabbed her coat from the hook and went after him. Damp and bitter cold struck her, and the snow fell thickly. She could already barely see his footprints on the sidewalk, but Emma didn't have to be a good tracker to know where Killian would have gone. She set out after him at a near-run.

By the time Emma caught up they were at the waterfront, and she was half-soaked from slipping in the snow and falling on her ass.

"Killian?" She saw him turn. "Killian please, wait." She stopped a good ten feet away to try to get her breath back.

“Emma --” Under the glaring boathouse lights, he still had that tight-jawed, desperate look he’d had upon leaving the house. He had looked like that too much in the Underworld. 

“Just wait, okay? Look. I’m sorry. I’m not -- I’m not angry at  _ you _ , okay? I know how it sounded, but I’m not. I just saw what you were doing and I got scared, and I didn’t think before I said anything. I had no business getting on a high horse about it. I know that.” Emma blinked snowflakes and tears out of her eyes. Seeing the dream-catcher, seeing in it Killian’s memories from the vault of the Dark One, the unrelenting horror of those endless minutes, had jarred her into panic, brought back things that she had spent weeks trying not to think about. It seemed that she hadn’t been the only one. Emma saw him take a breath and bulled ahead. “So can we just -- just keep talking? Instead of whatever you’re thinking about doing?”

He flinched. "Of course."

"Don't say that."  

"Swan, do you want to talk or not?"

Emma closed her mouth, her eyes, her hands for a moment before saying what she should have said back at the house. "Yes. I want to talk. Do you?"

"I don't know."

"Okay." She was close enough to see his half-closed eyes, the dip of his head avoiding her gaze. Her throat hurt, but she let the quiet stand, mastered the urge to fill it with more explanations -- that she had thought he must still blame her, resent what she had done as the Dark One. That erasing that memory must be the only way he could think about living with her. That she had panicked and gone on the offensive.

“I'm sorry," he said. 

"For being human? Or for what  _ I _ did? I'm sorry, too. For all of it."

“I know, and that’s… that’s not the reason, at all.” He closed the remaining distance between them in a few steps. "So what now?"

"I don't know." She reached out a hand anyway. “But I do know that I freaked out back there, and I said things I didn’t mean. Because I’ve thought about doing the same thing, sometimes. About just forgetting things, it would be so easy, but once you start doing that, where does it stop. Before you do, could you maybe talk to Archie, or to somebody?”

“Aye.” He leaned his forehead against hers. "That’s sensible..” After a moment he said, “I've never run from anyone but you."

Emma summoned a wobbly smile. "I'm that scary, huh."

"Terrifying. Nearly as soon as I met you, I knew -- a glance from you might lay bare a century of poor excuses."

"But you always come back." 

"Aye, and the better for it."

They stood collecting snow for a few more moments before Emma said, "My feet are freezing. Can we go home?" They weren't done with this, but she didn't need to push right now.

"We can. Though as long as we're here,” he raised his head to glance seaward, “I ought to speak to Captain Nemo before they cast off."

"I guess. What for?" She took his hand and twined her cold fingers through his. This was all she had really wanted. 

"He gave me some very good advice, earlier today. That I failed to take it does not lessen the gift."

"All right. I've never been on a submarine." 

Killian led the way down the wharf to where the Nautilus lay. "I think you'll find this one rather differs from the usual run in this world."

 

*

 

"This is an unexpected pleasure," Nemo greeted them with a smile. "I won't question it, but I will see if one of my crew can find you a towel."

“Thanks.” Emma looked around the salon and tried not to drip on the velvet. “I didn’t think it would be this big on the inside.” 

“Our voyages are long.” He waved at the iris window, the pipe organ, and the navigational instruments. “A vista for the eyes to rest upon, engagements for the mind, and a few other comforts are essential to good health.” 

“It’s beauti--” Emma started to say, when a swirl of black smoke engulfed the far side of the room. “Gideon.” She started forward, hands already in position for spell-casting.

“Ah-ah,” Gideon admonished, throwing back his hood. “I’m not sure tossing magical blasts around inside a submarine is the best idea, unless you can all breathe water.” Elsewhere in the vessel, gears clanked and wheels spun. 

“What do you think you are doing?” Nemo demanded, striding toward the invader. The  _ Nautilus  _ began to move.

Gideon smiled. “Getting the Savior out of the way. Enjoy your trip with her, captains.” The enigmatic sorcerer vanished again with a flourish of black robes.

“Bloody over-dramatic--” Killian started to say. The ship jerked; alarms sounded. He took hold of an exposed pipe to steady himself.  

“We’re submerging,” Nemo said. He stepped to the nearest speaking tube and issued a series of crisp orders. “Hold on to something.” 

Emma grabbed the table -- it was bolted to the floor -- and said, “I can try to stop it if I can figure out what he did.” 

“Too late,” Nemo said. “The portal is forming, and he’s locked the instruments. To attempt to shut things down now could damage the vessel fatally. Brace yourselves.” 

Blinding light leaked around the edges of the window covering, and the shaking grew intense as the ship moved inexorably forward. The rumbling vibration drowned out any other sound as unsecured books and instruments slid from their shelves. 

Emma had thought that nothing could be worse than traversing a portal on the open deck of a sailing ship, but as it turned out, doing so in a submarine topped it for sheer electric terror. Not being able to see the howling maelstrom around them did not ease her tension one bit. Her knuckles were white and her hands ached when the _Nautilus’s_ headlong plunge slowed to a drift. The alarms continued. The deck slanted hard to the left. Emma let go her death grip on the table long enough to get over to Killian. 

“You all right, love?” He gave her a concerned look, but appeared unhurt. 

“Fine, you? Where are we?” Emma looked at Nemo as Liam came in. 

“Damage report, Mr. Jones,” the captain ordered. He did not appear troubled by the room’s pitch or its continued slow movement. 

“Full extent unknown yet, sir, but we hadn’t finished our preparations for launch. The port engine took damage, not sure yet how bad it is. We have some injuries among the crew, a broken arm is the worst of them. Also, we lost some of the supplies to a portside leak in the hold. Repairs are already underway while we look for more problems.” 

Emma caught Killian’s flicker of smile -- almost identical to Nemo’s -- at this report. 

“Excellent. I’ll be there in a moment.” Nemo looked at Emma and Killian. “If you’ll excuse me?” He and Liam departed. 

“I guess we did want to change the subject,” Emma muttered. She edged across the sloped deck and hit the button to open the window. “Any idea where we are?” Deep water was all she could tell, with very little to see by and less to see, not even a passing fish. 

Killian joined her. “Impossible to say without a look at the stars.” 

“We gotta get back, we can’t be away from Storybrooke when he’s plotting… whatever it is he’s really after besides killing me. Can’t be good, right?” 

“Presumably not.” He put an arm around her. “However, they’re a resourceful lot. I expect they’ll manage. As will we.” 

“I hope so.” Emma leaned her head against his shoulder and stared at the empty ocean. “Why do I have the feeling that this is not going to be as simple as turning around and opening a portal to get back.”

 

*

 

“.... And finally,” Liam concluded his report, “we’re dangerously close to being out of fuel, with little to choose from in terms of nearby ports.” The ongoing engine repairs had corrected some of the submarine’s list, but not all of it. The other three seemed to be used to the slant and stood easily, but Emma kept feeling like she was going to slide downhill. Unless it was the prospect of being stuck in a drifting and powerless submarine in the oceans of the Enchanted Forest doing that. 

“Thank you, Mr. Jones,” Nemo said. “That is quite thorough, as always.” He turned to Emma and Killian. “I’m afraid that getting you two back home will not be a simple endeavor.” 

“Knew it,” Emma said. “Look, my folks are going to be freaking out. Henry is going to be freaking out. There’s a deranged sorcerer with the aesthetic sense of a high school theater geek running around town, and we need to get back there as soon as possible.” 

“I understand. Unfortunately, opening a portal is a significant task. Even if the ship were undamaged, we do not have enough kraken’s blood to ensure that the portal would reach its destination. I would prefer not to deliver all of us to a netherworld between the realms if it can be avoided. It would quite waste the help you’ve provided by healing my injured crew.” Nemo smiled. 

Emma shrugged off the thanks. “Fine. So what do we do now?” 

“The first step is to find a kraken,” Killian said with an amused glint in his eyes.

 

*

 

While the  _ Nautilus _ made its best speed toward the nearest known haunt of krakens, one of Nemo’s crew showed them to an empty cabin near the stern. The room reminded Emma of compartments on trains she had seen in old movies. It had a curtained porthole, two narrow bunks that could be folded down on one wall, and a desk and seat that could be folded down on the other. Even in what she had to assume was a room normally used by junior crew members, the fittings were well made and looked comfortable. The overhead electric light worked through a touch-plate in the wall. Once in a while the ship’s structure rang with a deep vibration. Emma hoped that was just Nemo getting out some frustration at the pipe organ, and not a sign that the whole contraption was going to come apart. 

“Is this okay? The room?” she asked from the doorway. “Other than the fact that this thing runs on blood.”

“Your world’s automobiles derive power from gasoline, which is what again?”

“Uh… liquid dinosaurs. Point. The room, though?” 

“It’s fine.” Killian let the curtain fall over the lack of view and gave her a puzzled look. “We’ve both had worse quarters.” 

“Yeah, but. I don’t know. I thought maybe you wanted to be alone.” She shrugged. Now that the shock was fading, she couldn’t help but remember what had landed them on the  _ Nautilus  _ in the first place. 

Killian shrugged. “We had a fight, Swan. Bit of a corker, granted, but that happens.” 

“Well… we haven’t before, really.” She crossed her arms over her stomach. “Not since you moved in. I heard something once about not going to bed mad.” That had never been a possibility to worry about in her pre-Storybrooke years. 

“I’m not. Are you?” 

She uncrossed her arms and stepped into the room to sit on the lower bunk. “I don’t think so. I mean, other than at Gideon.” She felt hollow and exhausted and worried, but not  _ angry _ .

“Well then.” 

“Just like that? I don’t mean I want to start fighting again,” she added. 

“Then we needn’t.” Killian sat down next to her. “It has been quite a day.” 

“Yeah. Can I just ask what happened? That brought up all of… that stuff again.” 

“Your visions.” 

Emma cocked her head, puzzled, but he didn’t elaborate. She took his hand instead of asking further.

He brushed his fingers over hers. “You know, we  _ are  _ likely to argue now and again.” 

“Yeah, but I guess I figured it would be about whose turn it was to take out the trash, or Henry’s curfew.” 

“Still a possibility.”

“Great. Thanks.” She couldn’t help returning his smile. He kissed her hair. She tried not to worry. 

 

*

 

It took them three days to find a kraken. The crew worked diligently at their repairs, but Emma couldn’t help noticing how nervous they looked, or the fact that the ship still tended to lean to port. Nemo gave them the run of the ship, took meals with them, and offered diverting stories about his travels in a dozen realms and about people he had met in the Land of Untold Stories. Emma did her best to be a good guest in return, but it was mostly on Killian to keep up the conversation. She used the mirror in Nemo’s salon to check in on events in Storybrooke more often than was probably useful. There wasn’t any sound, but she could at least reassure herself that they were all right. Between peeks at her family, she paced every corridor on the  _ Nautilus _ until she felt like she was in the crew’s way, flipped through all of Nemo’s books, deeply regretted that she had worn a white sweater the other day, and envied Killian’s ability to wait. 

“Centuries of practice, love,” he said with a grin, looking up from the book he was reading at the little pocket desk. “Isn’t this a bit like one of your… stake-outs?”

“I’m not stuck in an underwater Pringles can during one of those. And it’s not that I don’t like the ship,” she added to head off that argument. “It’s a lovely ship.” 

“I am anxious to return as well, but worrying won’t be any help to your family.”

“I know. And I know they’re good at weathering things, but they’re cursed right now. Not exactly at their best.” She flung herself down on the lower bunk and stared at the curved ceiling, then propped herself up on her elbows to look at Killian. “How are you doing? For real?”

He took her meaning with a raised eyebrow. “Well enough. Why, are you looking for a distraction?”

“I wouldn’t say no.” And if he didn’t think it was weird, then neither would she. They could figure things out. 

“Oh?” He closed the book and joined her.

“I miss sleeping with you. These beds are way too skinny.”

“I confess, I prefer our own as well. I think can make shift, however.” 

They left the light on. Emma felt tentative at first. They went slowly until that became an end in itself -- small motions, gentle touches, whispers drawing out the affirmation they both craved.

“What are you thinking?” he asked later. They lay wedged together on the bunk, spoon fashion, which was fine only as long as Emma didn’t move more than an inch. If she did, she was going to end up on the floor. 

“That time Zelena cursed you.”  _ Come back to me. _ And he had, then and every time afterward. 

“That was quite the day.” 

“We’ve had a lot of them.” Emma turned over (carefully). 

“Every one of them precious.” 

She laughed and kissed him, pleased by the hunger of his response. Not so slow this time, they still tried to be quiet for the sake of the neighbors -- and very thoroughly distracted. 

 

*

 

“Kraken!” came the word from the lookout, and all hands aboard the Nautilus scrambled to battle stations. 

“They are, needless to say, dangerous,” Nemo said. “For their sheer size if nothing else. They must be taken with care so as not to waste the blood. A steady hand and sure aim are needed, and never a long struggle, or else this chase would be in vain.” 

“I volunteer,” Killian said. Emma squeezed his hand. 

Nemo gave him a thoughtful look and a half-bow, conceding the honor. “The first harpoon is yours, Captain. If this creature follows the usual pattern, we won’t have a long chase. If they even notice pursuit, they seldom run from it. They have nothing to fear from most of the vessels of this world.” 

“How often do you have to do this?” Emma asked, staring at the dim shape on what looked an awful lot like a sonar panel. Although the  _ Nautilus’  _ instruments seldom worked the way she expected them to, they were effective. 

“Perhaps every other year, under normal circumstances. In the Land of Untold Stories, of course, nothing was ever truly depleted -- including my own life, fortunately,” he added with a wry look. “The kraken is a potent source of energy, but I fear that traveling between realms requires considerable resources.”

“Every method does have its price. “ Emma nodded. “Although by now we should get a frequent flier discount.”

They trailed the beast for another day before the watchers reported that the kraken appeared headed for the surface. 

“Follow it up,” Killian ordered. 

Liam looked like he wanted to object, but Nemo stayed him with a look. Liam glared back in silent outrage. Nemo gave a gentle shake of his head.

If he noticed this, Killian ignored it. “Quickly, gentlemen. Our window is closing. Shall we?” he said to Emma, who decided not to mention it. .

“Right behind you.” 

The ship surfaced as quickly as its leaking mechanisms allowed, and broke the water just behind the kraken. As soon as the all-clear sounded, Emma followed Killian up through the hatch. The fresh air and sunshine on her face were intoxicating, however cold. From the water below she heard splashing, and someone yelled -- she hauled herself up the last few rungs and emerged just in time to see the harpoon reach its mark. The water boiled around the kraken. Amid the writhing tentacles was a rowboat, and it was occupied. 

“Is that… Aladdin and Jasmine?” Emma shaded her eyes.

“Duck!” Jasmine yelled, swinging an oar over Aladdin’s head to fend off the dying kraken’s convulsions. 

“Certainly appears to be.” Killian made sure the harpoon was fast to the  _ Nautilus _ . 

“I thought they went to Agrabah. What the hell are they doing out here?”

“I’ll find out.” He swung over the rail, took hold of the rope, and slid down to the rowboat and its hapless occupants. 

“Show-off.” Emma shook her head and watched, ready to intervene magically if necessary. Jasmine’s Storybrooke coat made it seem unlikely that this was any kind of a trap, but she wasn’t planning to take chances.

“Normally we put out poisoned bait to slow the creature before closing in,” Liam noted, climbing up to lean on the rail next to her. “Less risk. But I suppose that’s one way to do it.” 

“He doesn’t miss often. You haven’t gotten much of a chance to spend time together, have you two.” Emma hadn’t gotten a good read on Liam so far. A quiet, stand-offish young man, devoted to Nemo and their mission, he hadn’t ventured much by way of personal opinions before this. She was pleased to see him unbend a little. 

“Not much, no.” He shrugged. 

“And you’re still not sure you want to,” Emma guessed. 

“I spent most of my life knowing no other family but the crew of this ship. To find it unexpectedly larger than I ever imagined is not easy to encompass.”

“I know how that feels.” 

“I’ll get some of the crew to deal with our kraken.” He headed below. 

“Are you guys coming on board or what?” Emma called down to the boat.

Aladdin took hold of the rope and began pulling them in toward the  _ Nautilus _ . “What are you doing in the Enchanted Forest?”

“Trying to get the hell out of it,” Killian said. “What are you two doing out here?”

“We’re searching for Agrabah,” Jasmine said. 

Emma looked at the expanse of water all around them and decided it was better not to say what she was thinking. “Just get up here so we can talk like normal people.” Which might not have been the best thing to say, either. 

 

*

 

“So we have the kraken’s blood, but we can’t put the  _ Nautilus _ through another portal before you get it fixed, because the damage from the last time might cave in on us like me stomping a tin can.” Emma looked from Liam to Nemo. The three of them, plus Killian and the two new arrivals, had gathered in the salon. Nemo had brought in a larger table and extra chairs. 

“Essentially, yes,” Nemo said. 

“Well, we have a genie now. We could get back the same way they got here.”

“Maybe.” Aladdin grimaced. “Princess Jasmine and I have spent the past two weeks tramping around the woods with nothing to show for it but blisters. Not sure that I’m your most reliable bet for transport.” 

“Precisely. You are certainly free to take the risk yourselves,” Nemo said with the grave courtesy Emma had yet to see budge, no matter the circumstances. “I am too well versed in the price demanded by magical conveniences. I will not risk my vessel or my crew unless the alternative is certain death.”

“Given where I ended up thanks to Regina, I’ll give you the point. So we’re back to fixing the  _ Nautilus _ .” Emma planted her hands on the table and stared at the map. “Where can we do that?” 

“Agrabah..”

“.... Which is gone.”

“Their metallurgy is by far the best in this realm.”

“It’s not gone, it’s missing,” Jasmine said. “I know it’s somewhere. Jafar didn’t destroy it, he… he hid it, just to hurt me.” She clenched her hands.   

“This guy sounds like a winner.” Emma blew out a sigh. 

“Jafar,” Killian said, sitting up straighter and tapping his hook against the table. 

“What about him?”

“Find him, find Agrabah. Captain Nemo, your harpoon…? Whatever drives this Jafar in his villainy, there must some element of revenge in it.” 

Jasmine grimaced. “There certainly is. He hates all of Agrabah for what his father did. I doubt his rage has abated over the past few years. But are you sure that’s a good idea? He’s quite powerful.” She looked doubtfully at Aladdin, who looked at the floor. 

“He will not be a problem,” Emma promised grimly. “I really want to go home. How does this harpoon thing work? Do we have to stab him with it?”

“Nothing so violent,” Nemo said, setting down the case and lifting the lid. 

“I like the sound of it,” Jasmine said.

“Another vote for the stabbing here.” Aladdin raised his hand.

“Murdering the man won’t save your city,” Nemo said. 

“Stabbing. Not murdering. Totally different.”

“The sooner we find him, the sooner we can all be off your ship,” Killian put in. Nemo’s long-suffering look brightened, and he set the harpoon head spinning in search of a heart given over to revenge. 

 

*

 

Another day passed. Her fuel tanks full, the  _ Nautilus _ cruised toward whatever unguessable destination held the secret to vanished Agrabah. Emma spent most of the time in the library, where she soon lost track of both the hours and the thread of every book she tried to read. She gave up on an alchemy manual in favor of something lighter, but even that gave her a headache. 

“If everything that happened in  _ this _ world is in books back in  _ my _ world,” she put down the book to stare at the cover, “are books in  _ this  _ world real in someone else’s world? And do they have books there, too? Is it a loop? If it stops, where does it stop? How many magic pens are we talking about here? And more important, do any of these people have any advice on fixing techno-magical submarines.” She belatedly realized that Aladdin had entered the library. “Hi.”

"Sorry, I didn't mean to... interrupt?” He backed up a step, then paused and looked around. “Talking to yourself?" 

"Apparently. You’re not interrupting. At least, not anything that shouldn’t be interrupted.”  She swiped her hair back from her face with a sigh. 

“Okay. I don’t suppose you’ve seen Jasmine about?”

“Not since breakfast, sorry.” She gave him a curious look, grateful for the prospect of a distraction. 

“Hmmm breakfast.” He closed his eyes with a smile. “I have to say, running into you all was a stroke of luck. Neither of us is much of a forager. Always was a city boy, and I’m afraid I’ve gotten used to all of the Storybrooke conveniences. Another week, and I might have wished myself back there for a loaf of fresh bread and some apples.” 

“I’m sure Nemo’s cook will be glad to hear it. The food is definitely a down side to traveling in this realm. I’ve eaten some unpleasant things back in our world, including convenience store hot dogs, but at least I knew what most of them were.” 

He hovered for another minute, looking at the nearest shelf. “Any recommendations? I fancy an airy setting. This place is a bit on the cramped side.”

“You could always go back in your lamp for a change of pace.”

“Not an improvement. Soft cushions, mind, but the place soon starts to whiff a bit.”

“If you’re looking for something to read, you can have this one.” She passed it over. “It’s got dragons. Lots of air.”

“Uh… thanks.” He settled on the opposite couch. “So, what’s got you talking to yourself?”

“Oh… I don’t know. Trying to figure out how to get us all out of this and get home.” She hesitated. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt. “You know, sometimes I think I don't know how to do this."

"Do what?" He looked around with a puzzled look. “You’re doing great. Savior.”

Emma winced. “It’s not that, I’m kinda getting used to that thing. It’s life. I mean, it’s taken me years to figure out how to be a parent, and now there’s this whole other... thing. It’s the three of us now, not just me and Henry, and it’s different. Being with someone, living with someone, I've never done it before. People make it look easy. At least my parents do."

"Ah. Never really had those, couldn't say. Or the other, for that matter."

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, it wasn’t all bad.” He clasped his hands behind his head and looked at the ceiling. The dim blue light through the portholes played over his grin. “The thieving part was fun. I mean, other than the hunger and fear and scavenging and so forth.”

“I know.” She changed the subject. "You trust her a lot. Jasmine."

He looked surprised. "I suppose so."

"You decided to become a genie to help her out. She could command you to do -- well, anything. You wouldn't have a choice." Memory made her guts coil unpleasantly, the helplessness and the quick-rising fury of the dagger's compulsion.

"She wouldn't do that. And I had to do something. Only way. Can’t run from it forever, right?" He fiddled with the cuffs on his wrists and looked over at Emma with a wry smile. “Golden shackles. Always thought the metaphor was a bit heavy-handed, to be honest.”

“Curses aren’t known for being subtle. How long have you two known each other?"

Aladdin scratched the back of his neck. "It's a little hard to figure out time exactly, what with one thing and another. Curses and so forth."

"That’s fair. How long did it feel like?"

"A month or so, I suppose. We met back in Agrabah, but then I was off fighting, and she had the kingdom.” He shrugged. “And then the weeks we’ve just spent in this, ah, delightful quest."

"Some people would say that's not very long." If he was trying to do something other than wear his heart on his sleeve, Emma thought he was doing a terrible job of it. 

“Amazing what you can learn about someone when you’re camping in the wilderness.” 

“True.” 

Aladdin gave her an amused look, and Emma’s cheeks warmed; her expression must have given something away, too. They were a long way from Neverland. It had been twenty years since the last time she had even thought about settling down with anyone. Men were there to scratch an itch and then you moved on -- but she hadn’t, and he hadn’t, and it was  _ their  _ home,  _ their  _ family they were trying to get back to. And she certainly did trust him. 

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about really,” Aladdin said with a faint smile as he got up. “Thanks for the book.” 

 

*

 

“Er. Have you seen Aladdin?” Jasmine asked.

“‘Fraid not.” Killian glared at the chart. The harpoon had not wavered; whatever else he was doing, Jafar wasn’t moving around much. There wasn’t much out in this part of the ocean, however, and he was getting concerned. The longer this little jaunt took, the more the danger at home increased. He didn’t like to think of Emma’s family at the mercy of the Dark One’s son. 

“Oh.” Jasmine sounded somewhere between relief and disappointment.

“You might try the library.”

“That’s a good idea.” She didn’t leave, though, just wandered around the room looking at Nemo’s instruments. “So, what’s it been like. Being in a relationship with a Savior.” 

“Ah… eventful. Thought your lad there had resigned from the position?” 

“He’s not mine. Not that it really matters.”

Killian gave her a skeptical look. 

“Anyway, he did save me, and my city, for a time.” 

“Fair enough.

“It’s a lot more than I did.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. 

After a silence, Killian asked, “Do you know anything of Jafar that would explain his evident whereabouts?”

“I don’t know very much about him at all, other than that we ought not to underestimate him.”

“I’m sure Emma will prove his equal.”

“I hope so.” 

Killian rubbed his forehead and restrained a sigh. “Your Highness, there is nothing in these waters but a few small islands. If we continue on our present course for more than two days, we will be in uncharted territory with a voyage of unguessable distance before us. This is occupying a fair portion of my thoughts right now, so if there’s something you want to get off your chest, could you please do so?”

“I ran away.” Jasmine clenched her hands and glared at the wall. “It’s all I’ve ever done. I made excuses, and then more excuses. And now I don’t know what to do. I can’t lead my people; can’t protect them, can’t even find them.”

“Possible that you’re being a bit hard on yourself.” 

“I wish--” she stopped and looked around. “Is it safe to say that with a genie on board?”

“Better not to take the chance. Look, princess, believe me, I know what it’s like to feel like you’re not making the grade, so to speak. Fortunately or not, life never seems to tire of giving us opportunities to prove the opposite.” 

Jasmine sighed. “After so long in the Land of Untold Stories, perhaps I’ve simply forgotten how to make mine progress.” 

“Try Neverland someday. Or look at your choices and make a decision.” Decide to turn around, to follow, to go on, to come back. 

Her mouth pursed, Jasmine refrained from immediate reply. Killian shook his head and focused on the charts. 

Eventually she said, “The library?” 

“Aye.”

“Thank you, captain.” 

 

*

 

“The harpoon has found a destination,” Killian said. “Hangman’s Island.” He tapped the chart spread across the table. 

“That’s not the name I know it by,” Nemo observed.

“Aye, well, it’s more used among a certain set.” 

“Hangman’s Island?” Emma frowned and looked up at Killian. “Wait, isn’t that where Ariel was?”

“It was,” he emphasized. “If Jafar is there, let us hope that she is not.” 

Their days of underwater travel had brought them to warmer climes. They prepared as best they could for the encounter. Killian borrowed a sword. 

Emma pulled Jasmine aside as they prepared to disembark at sunset. “You don’t have to come along.”

“Of course I do.” The princess frowned. “This is about my city, my home. I won’t say I’m not afraid,” she said more quietly, “but I am coming with you. And I do have a genie.”

A genie with whom she had spent a good bit of the previous day in quiet conversation, at that. Not that Emma was one to pry, but she could hardly help noticing that the two Agrabahns did not maintain quite the same awkward distance that they had when they first came aboard.

“You also swing a mean oar,” Emma said. “Let’s go, then.” They joined Killian and Aladdin at the ladder. “Remember, the plan is to immobilize and interrogate. Best if we can take him by surprise.” She looked them over with a wince. Emma had borrowed a darker shirt from one of the crew, and Jasmine’s buff-colored coat would be okay until full dark, but there wasn’t any hiding a genie’s glitter, and they might need his power against Jafar. “Killian, maybe you should take point. You’ve been here before.” 

“My pleasure.” 

The island appeared peaceful. Their reconnaissance determined that it had only one building, and that building appeared to be uninhabited. The house was set back a little ways from a small beach. A pit and nearby stack of wood showed evidence of cooking fires. Emma left Aladdin on watch and went in first, magic ready, but the place was empty -- of people, at least; in all other respects it was monumentally cluttered. The whole of it was one room, a curtained bed, a table, and shelf after shelf of… stuff. 

“Who needs this many corkscrews?” Jasmine wondered. 

Killian shrugged. “Well, a broken cork could be tragic, under the right circumstances.”

Emma stifled a snicker and looked through more shelves of flotsam and jetsam. “You know, this all seems a little familiar somehow. Seventeen forks that don’t match?”

“Aye.” Killian frowned at a collection of glass floats.

Aladdin opened the door. “Someone’s coming. Not Jafar,” he added. “Two people. They’re talking.” 

“Two? I bet we know who it is, then,” Emma said. They went outside, and in the last fading sunlight saw Ariel and Eric walking hand in hand up the path from the beach. 

They stopped and exchanged a surprised look, then rushed forward. A jumble of greetings, hugs, and questions followed. 

“What are you doing here?” Emma asked. “I would have thought you’d be back in your kingdom by now, it’s been…  months?” 

“Oh, we’re just taking a little break,” Ariel said with a fond glance at Eric. “It’s nice to get away from the bustle of the court once in a while. I keep all of my best collections here, too, the currents are fantastic.” 

“Must have been all that time under the curse,” Eric said with a laugh. “Guess I got used to a simple life, and to fishing.” He had a net slung over his shoulder, some of its contents still wriggling, and a basket of fruit in the crook of his arm. “This has the best of both worlds. But please do come in,” he added. “Whatever brings you to the island, our home is yours.” 

He looked as happy as anyone Emma had ever seen. She almost hated to explain the reason for their visit, and did so as quickly as possible.. 

“Do you suppose…?” Eric said with a glance at Ariel.

“It must be this.” Ariel nodded and picked up a brass bottle from one of her shelves. “It’s the only thing I have that’s from Agrabah.” 

“Only one way to find out.” Emma looked at Jasmine, who reached out to take the bottle. 

She gave Aladdin a nervous look and got an encouraging nod in return, then rubbed her sleeve over the tarnished brass. A wisp of smoke issued out -- reluctantly, or was that Emma’s imagination? -- and took the form of a tall man in Agrabahn dress and golden cuffs. 

“I am the genie of the lamp. Tell to me your wishes… three.” He paused. “I might have guessed.” 

“Jafar. It really is you. What happened?” Jasmine stared at him. “How did  _ you _ become a genie?”

Jafar closed his eyes in silent eloquence before saying, “I am bound by my curse to answer ‘hubris’ to that question, though I in no way concede such a premise. How may I serve you, o  _ mistress  _ of the lamp.” His glance veered to Aladdin. “Or is it mistress of the ex-Savior these days.” 

Emma stepped between them. “Can it. I’m the only Savior you need to worry about today.”

Jafar smiled. “And why is that, exactly?”

“Because there are six of us here, and unless you answer my questions, we’re going to spend all day trading your lamp back and forth and finding new ways to make you regret being born.”

His smile widened, but there were daggers in it. “Oh, you have no idea. Ask your questions, then.”

Emma glanced at Jasmine, who raised her chin and spoke like a princess. . 

“Genie, I command you. Tell me what you did to Agrabah.” 

“Unobservant as well? You were right there, I’m sure you saw it.” He spread his hands. “The answer is in your hands, if only you had the wit to find it.” 

“I wonder what happens when a genie punches a genie right in his smug mouth,” Aladdin mused. “I mean, we are immortal, right? We could find out.” 

“Oh yes, let us.” Jafar moved toward him like a snake, but Jasmine threw herself between the two of them. 

“Stop it. I command you. And answer my question.” 

“I already did.” He flicked a ringed hand dismissively. “Agrabah is right where you left it.” 

“You speak in riddles. Answer me plainly. You must!”

“Oh, but I don’t have to do that at all, mistress. Only accurately.” 

Jasmine stared at him. Emma wondered if she ought to intervene, but suddenly Jasmine smiled and said, “Thank you, genie. I do have one more question. What is it that you want?” 

For a moment it seemed that he would not answer, before he ground out, “I had it all within my grasp. If it takes a thousand years, I will have it again. Even a genie’s curse can be broken. I will find the means.” 

“Indeed? Back in your bottle, genie.”

Jafar sneered and vanished in a cloud of smoke. Emma gave Killian a confused look and got one back. 

“What--” she started to say.

“I know the answer now. Which just leaves the question of what to do with this.”  Jasmine picked up the bottle. “Back in the ocean?”

“It will only wash up somewhere else,” Aladdin said. “It’s how these things work.” 

“I could keep it,” Ariel said. “I don’t need a wish.” She beamed at Eric, who blushed. “I’ll probably forget that it’s there, with all of this other stuff.” 

“I guess that will have to do,” Jasmine said, though she looked doubtful. 

“Great,” Emma said. “So… Agrabrah? Where is it?”

“Right here.” Jasmine held up her hand to show the ring. “This is part of my family’s regalia. It’s linked to the city, to the land. And now it is frozen within it. My wish worked, after all -- the way they do.” 

“Sure. Fine. How do we get it out, then?”

“I don’t know, but I suspect a Savior can do it.” She looked at Aladdin. 

“What? I keep telling you people, I’m not. I used the bloody shears! Destiny, no more, gone.” He gestured as if to someone leaving the room. “Bye.”

“I don’t know if we only get one destiny. Please, at least try.” 

“You could just make a wish.” 

“No. Nemo was right, it’s too dangerous. Please?” 

“If it’ll make you feel better to embarrass me, all right.” He sighed and moved nearer. “Give it here.”

Jasmine slid the ring off her finger and held it up in the lamplight. 

“Oh, it’s lovely. So glittery,” Ariel said.

Jasmine smiled. “It certainly is.” She slipped it onto Aladdin’s finger, as far as it would go. 

Aladdin blinked and gave her an uncertain smile. Emma and Killian exchanged raised eyebrows. 

Aladdin held his hand over the ring like a conjurer. “Uh, abracadabrah. Mellon. Pretty please? You see? Nothing.” His voice softened. “Jasmine. I would like nothing better than to give you back our city. You deserve nothing less for everything you’ve done. And there’s nowhere else I would rather be than defending it with you, trying to fix everything I did wrong. But I --.” 

A wind rose from nothing to a howl that shook the house. Everyone stared at the ring, which had begun to glow. Emma had to shield her eyes, protection spells dancing at her fingertips, but the noise and the shaking died as abruptly as it had begun. 

“Uh… what just happened?” Ariel said. 

“You did it.” Jasmine threw her arms around Aladdin and kissed him. 

A wash of rainbow light burst out from the two of them, over the house and all of Ariel’s things,and was gone. When it faded, the golden cuffs were gone from Aladdin’s wrists.

 

End of Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

Aladdin and Jasmine stared at each other, then at the golden cuffs on the floor.

“What just happened?” he said.

“I kissed you. And....” 

“And the curse broke. I’m not a genie anymore.” 

“Looks like true love.” Not normally one to get misty-eyed, Emma couldn’t help sneaking a smile at Killian. “Well done. Now that Agrabah’s back, though, can I ask where it is?” She looked around the house.

“Not far from here,” Ariel assured her, the other two being far too wrapped up in one another’s eyes to answer. “A day’s swim, maybe.” 

“At mermaid speed?” Killian frowned. “It may take us somewhat longer. And we have yet to repair the Nautilus.”

“This is taking so long.” Emma sighed and looked at the ceiling. More of Ariel’s collected objects hung from the rafters, along with fishing nets, baskets of fruit, and jugs of wine. “I just wish we had some way to get in touch with them.” She realized what she had said and gave Aladdin a nervous look, but he appeared to be truly de-genified. Jasmine said something to him about her father that made him laugh. 

“Really?” Ariel brightened and started going through her shelves. “I might have something that will work. Killian, do you still have that seashell?”

“One of them. The other got broken. Very usefully, mind,” he added. 

“That should do fine. I’m not sure if this will work across realms, though. It’s worth a try.” She rummaged for a few more minutes and came up with a shell strung on a cord. She handed it to Emma. 

“A magic seashell? Like the one you gave Belle?” Emma looked from mermaid to pirate. “If it needs another piece to talk to, where’s the other half of yours?”

“In my chest at home.” 

“Oh.” Emma deflated. “Doesn’t seem likely that anyone will hear it in there, even if it does work.”

“Maybe not, but there’s nothing lost in making the attempt.” Killian squeezed her hand. 

“True. At this point, I’d take a carrier pigeon.” She lifted the shell to her mouth and thought hard about her family. “Hello? Can anyone hear me? It’s Emma. Hello?” No response. “Damn.” She missed their house, missed her son, and her heart ached at the thought of what they must all be going through, not knowing anything other than that she and Killian had vanished without a trace. Her parents would still be trading days and nights, always alone, taking care of Neal, trying not to give up hope. She would have to do the same. “I guess we can keep trying at different times of day, and stuff. Or check the mirror and see if anyone is around there ever.”

“That’s the spirit!” Ariel patted her on the shoulder. “Keep the shell.” 

“I just want them to know we’re okay.”

“Then we’d best be getting back to the Nautilus,” Killian said. “The sooner we get to Agrabah, the sooner we all get home.”

“Yes, let’s. Everyone in the city must be very confused,” Jasmine said. “My poor father, it’s been so long.” Her voice faltered; Aladdin squeezed her hand. 

“Are you sure you won’t stay for supper?” Eric invited. “I’m quite a good cook with fish these days, and there’s plenty of fruit.” 

“Love to, but we have a submarine to catch. Thank you for the shell,” Emma said. “And keep an eye on Jafar, I guess. And maybe these, while you’re at it.” She picked up the golden cuffs and handed them to Ariel.

“Oooh, they’re pretty.” She gave them a speculative look but didn’t actually put one on . “I don’t think I would like being a genie, though. My collections wouldn’t fit inside a lamp. And don’t worry, we’ll make sure Jafar doesn’t go anywhere,” Ariel added. “He can sit in that bottle and stew for a century or so if he wants to.” She placed the bottle back on its shelf among a dozen similar containers, differing mainly in their degree of corrosion after being plucked from the ocean floor. “Perfect! It really makes the group, doesn’t it? Although perhaps just one or two more…. For balance? What do you think?” she asked Eric. 

“Thanks for the shell. We’ll try to visit again,” Emma said, and put on the shell-necklace. The four of them headed back to the shore where the  _ Nautilus _ waited. 

 

*

 

To pass the hours of the journey, Emma borrowed paper and pens from their long-suffering host and set to making notes. It was an unfamiliar business, and slow. She might receive or create a file of information on a target or lately some minor crime, but she seldom had to put it all together from raw facts. Killian had offered once to be of assistance, which she refused. Since then he had occupied the organ bench, picking out sparse melodies while Emma muttered and scribbled. After a half hour, she had not made much progress. 

Rumple > Dark Curse > Final Battle? 

Merlin (was he a Savior?)  > Author > pen? 

Emotion = magic; love? 

Why only some magic?

Saviors >  villains > saviors > villains (storybooks?)

The last was underlined three times and circled. It refused to tell her anything new no matter how long she stared at it. 

“Dammit!” Emma wiped her hand across the table; papers whirled to the floor. Killian looked up but didn’t comment. Emma sighed and started picking them up again as Aladdin came in. 

“Uh… hi,” he said. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“You’re not interrupting. This is probably a waste of time.”

“What is all this?” He bent down to help her pick up the rest of the notes. 

“What we know about Saviors. Except I think it’s turned into ‘everything we know about magic,’ which is turns out is fuck all.” She waved a scrap of paper with a scribbled genealogy of Enchanted Forest royalty. “This realm is lousy at history.” 

“Don’t think I can be much help with that, sorry.” From the direction of his glance, Emma thought that perhaps he had been hoping to talk to Killian. 

“This isn’t getting me anywhere anyway. But you and I ought to talk some time. You’re the only other Savior I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah, um. About that? I don’t even understand why that trick with the ring worked. Of course, I didn’t understand why it worked before the Shears, so nothing lost really.” 

“I think it has something to do with destiny. Or maybe fate.” Emma frowned. 

“Same thing, surely.” 

“I don’t know. Maybe.” She wrote that down, too. 

“Fate acts upon us,” Killian said, playing a few random notes. “Destiny is the end toward which it moves us.” 

“Very gnomic. Bravo. The hell does that mean?” Aladdin asked. 

“It means that we cannot refuse Fate,” he said, “but it is not Fate alone, but also our own actions that bring us to, or away from, Destiny.” 

“Very neat,” Emma said. “So using the shears is the ultimate act of refusal. But it doesn’t end our ability to act.” 

“I guess.” Aladdin shrugged. “What is it you’re trying to do with all of this, then?”

“Figure out how saviors work. If I’m going to get back home just to walk into some kind of ‘final battle,’ whether that’s with Gideon -- again -- or whoever, I want to know why. Never liked the thought of being toyed with by universal forces.”

Aladdin shrugged. “Jafar was still defeated, even though it wasn’t by me. And you’ve faced a fair number of villains by now? I’m not sure this is a situation with rules, so to speak.” 

“Maybe not.” Emma chewed on the end of her pen. “Gold made it sound like I was a Savior because of the curse. But we’ve had curses since then with no saviors. In the Wish World, that version of him said that saviors show up because villains exist, but Jafar had been around for a long while before you became a Savior. Regina was Evil Queening it for years before I was even born. Plenty of people never got saved there.” 

Killian closed up the organ and turned around. “This might be a stretch, love, but is it possible that the Dark One was not entirely truthful? Nor might Jafar have been with our friend.”

“You think?” Emma sighed. “Good point. I give up. Maybe we’re not supposed to understand it.” 

“If we are, then I’m certain you will in time,” Kilian said.

“I’ll leave you two to talk. I’m going back to our room, gonna try the shell one more time before we make land.” 

 

*

 

“Hello, this is Emma,” she said for the dozenth time that day. Their tiny cabin was already more familiar than she wanted it to be, and she paced to the extent that she could. She had the message down by heart, having repeated it every two hours since they left Ariel. “I don’t know if anyone can hear me, but we’re trying to get home, and--”

“Mom?!” The voice came very faint and muffled. Metal clacked, and the chest’s hinges creaked. “Mom?”

“Henry! Henry, where are you?” Emma brought the shell closer to her ear, hoping to hear more. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I came home to get some clothes, and I heard a voice and thought someone broke in or something. Mom, is that really you?”

“Yes, kid, it’s me.” 

“Prove it. Back in New York, what was my favorite deli?”

“Smart.” Caught between laughter and tears, Emma recited the address. “It’s so good to hear you.”

“Yeah. Where are you? What happened? You guys just disappeared, your dad thought Nemo kidnapped you or something.”

“Long story, we’re in the Enchanted Forest -- ocean -- Gideon sent us all here -- but we’re getting back just as fast as we can. Is everybody okay? What’s going on at home?”

“Things are okay here. Mom and the Evil Queen came to an understanding.”

“They… what the hell does that mean?”

“Mom, language. They had a fight a couple days ago, and then Regina used the Shears of Destiny so they’re not bound together any more, and then they made up, and the Evil Queen went to the Wish World to get a new beginning. And Mom’s still trying to find a way to break the sleeping curse.”

“To the wish world? What?” Emma sat down at the little folding desk. “If they’re friends now, why didn’t Regina just ask her how to break it?” She did not ask, so is one of them still good and the other evil now, or are they both half and half, or what? And how much do I have to worry about her, or them, when I’m worlds away and can’t do anything about it? 

“She said she doesn’t know. It’s a curse, it’s not supposed to be broken. But she’s doing her best. Uh, everything else is quiet? Whatever Gideon’s up to, he’s not doing it very fast. And Mr Gold is too worried about what he’s up to, to make any other trouble for the town.” 

“Glad to hear it. Look, we’re on our way to Agrabah right now, with any luck we’ll be back in a few days. Just sit tight, okay?” 

“Will do. Everybody’s going to be so relieved to know you’re okay.”

Emma bit her lip. “Wait -- you can tell your grandparents and Regina about this, but that’s it, okay? If Gideon’s been slacking off because he thinks we’re out of the picture for good, there’s no reason to let slip to him that we’re heading home. He might do something drastic.” 

“Oh. Good point. Should I even tell them, then?”

“Yeah. Yeah, kid, you gotta. It’s not fair to keep them in the dark when they have so much else to deal with. But don’t tell Leroy, or anybody who might talk to Gideon. Not even Belle. Okay?” 

“Okay. Say hi to Killian, and to Liam and the crew for me.”

“I’ll do that. Love you.”

“I love you, mom.” 

 

*

 

The Nautilus docked at the tiny coastal town that served as the port for the kingdom of Agrabah. Once they were convinced that the vessel was not a sea monster, the dwellers proved quite talkative. Half the them tried to tell the newcomers that the city was gone, that the road they meant to take led nowhere but a featureless stretch of hills and a tiny spring; the other half cheerfully tried to sell them supplies for a much longer journey than they expected. As for Jasmine’s claimed identity, the princess had been missing nearly as long as the city, and the Savior was a rumor unseen in a generation.

“This is not the welcome I was hoping for,” Jasmine confessed. “They don’t even know that it was my fault the city vanished to begin with!” 

“Not yours, Jafar’s. And at least they’re not trying to stop us.” Emma shrugged and checked the supplies.

“They’re not even sure you’re real!” She appealed to Aladdin. “Doesn’t that bother you?”  

“Always wanted to be a legend.” He grinned. “And I suspect they haven’t been paying any taxes these past thirty years. Perhaps we should not be surprised to find a mixed reaction.” 

They readied themselves for the overland journey to the capital. Nemo left Liam in command, and came along to oversee the purchase of the needed materials to repair his ship. 

“Any other mission I would entrust to him,” Nemo said, almost seeming apologetic as they set out. “But no one knows this vessel better than I do, and her needs are exacting.” 

“I’m sure my father will be delighted to see you,” Jasmine said. “His best artisans will be at your command.”

“And they will receive fair payment for their work.”

“It would be an honor, for all that you’ve done for our realm.” 

Emma adjusted her new hat against the sun, which was already oppressive, and tried not to sigh at this well-mannered one-upsmanship. She glanced back at Killian, who had shed his black leather coat as his only concession to the climate. He smiled at her, but looked deep in thought, so she applied her attention to the trail ahead. Though it had not been used in many years, the route was still well-marked, rutted by wagons and pack animals of centuries. 

“It is beautiful,” Emma had to admit when the lights of Agrabah came into view. “But I think I was expecting something bigger.” The sultan’s palace didn’t dominate the skyline; it was the only thing visible on it. The entire “city” was smaller than Storybrooke, a walled, tree-rich garden tucked at the base of a range of dry hills. 

“My father’s wealth is unparalleled,” Jasmine said. “Agrabah is a city of artisans, jewelers, and poets.”

“And thieves,” Aladdin said amiably. 

“You’re not a thief anymore.”

Aladdin slipped his arm around her waist. “Perhaps this is all but an elaborate plot to make off with the crown jewels?” 

“A successful one, if so, and the thief should be congratulated.” 

Emma glanced at Killian and murmured, “I don’t think we’re this cute. Are we?”

“Better to ask an outside opinion, I suspect.” He grinned. 

“Absolutely not.” She looked at Nemo, some ways ahead of them. “Been a little while since we got a royal reception anywhere.” 

“Unexpected though it may be, this voyage is not without its recompenses.” 

“Just like old times? This land does look a bit like where we found the beanstalk.” Her Enchanted Forest geography remained hazy, and she had no idea how far they actually were from that land, from Aurora’s kingdom or her parents’. 

“I hope you’ll find no reason to knock me unconscious. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She wiped the oncoming melancholy away. 

“Swan….”

“Just I found myself thinking about all of the empty houses here. All of the places people used to live. Anton’s family are gone. My parents’ kingdom is gone. I guess no one in Storybrooke wants to come back here, now, not like they used to right after the first curse. Maybe somebody else has moved in. They would have a lot of work to do, the place was a wreck when I saw it.” 

“I can’t see you coveting a castle, love.” 

“Ugh, I don’t. We already have more bedrooms than we need. It’s just being here makes me think about how much has been lost. I’ll never see it the way it should have been, only now that it’s all ruined. I don’t know.” She looked at him. “Are you happy in Storybrooke?” 

“I’m happy anywhere you are.”

She pulled a face. “You’re a hopeless romantic. If we could go anywhere in all the worlds, as a family, where would you want to go?”

He looked nonplussed, a rare event. “I’ve never been tied to any particular place, never gave any thought to settling down until quite recently. The Jolly Roger has always been my fixed point, if you will. But if you insist,” he added, “I’ll consider it.” 

 

*

 

Their reception at the city was quite different from that in the port. As far as those within the capital were concerned, the time under Jafar’s spell had passed in an eyeblink. There had been witnesses outside Agrabrah, however, herders with flocks in the hills who had witnessed their return. Word had quickly spread within the city that they had been catapulted into the future. The city guards welcomed Jasmine with affection and Aladdin with surprise. 

“Your Highness, what happened?” the boldest of them asked. “Was it Jafar? Are we under attack?”

“I can’t explain now,” Jasmine said, “but we’re quite safe from him. I’m sure my father will send out word at once regarding what has happened, once I’ve spoken with him. Please, I need to see him quickly.” 

The new arrivals made haste to the palace with an escort of guards clearing the way. They found the court buzzing with confused activity, most of it martial in nature as the Sultan’s elite guard prepared to defend the city against whatever threat might appear. They whisked the five new arrivals into the palace interior, a graceful and pleasant series of rooms. Artful arrangements of corridors, greenery, and fountains created cooling breezes, perfumed by the flowers that grew in profusion throughout the city and the palace grounds. Emma could pick out Jasmine’s namesake and cedar, and found herself wishing she knew the names of more of them, that she could bring a bit of this with her. She didn’t know the first thing about plants, but she had a yard now, and roots of her own.

Jasmine’s father was a plump man with a brilliant smile, dressed all in white. He and his councilors took the matter of having been frozen in time inside a diamond for a few decades in surprising stride, but they had a great many questions about Jafar -- and while they were all more than pleased to have their Savior back, Emma thought there was a whiff of paternal dismay in the air at Aladdin’s abrupt-to-them rise in Jasmine’s estimation. 

“I guess it really is a matter of what you’re used to,” Emma said. She felt extraneous to the conversation, and had withdrawn to the background while Nemo and the Sultan got into yet another mutual appreciation contest. 

“Absolutely. Much like electricity that way.” Killian leaned in close to her and added, “I fear that more than one of these fellows trading fine compliments with the captain would mount an expedition to retrieve Jafar’s bottle this very night, if they knew where it resided.” 

“I think it’s pretty safe where it is. Eric’s got a navy, which I suspect Agrabah does not. And I doubt anyone wants to piss off Ariel’s people.” 

“Mermaid wars are ugly, true. What’s the word, Your Highness?” he asked as Jasmine and Nemo rejoined them. 

“Messengers are going out now to find what you will require to return to Storybrooke. At least for tonight, my father hopes that you will accept our hospitality.” 

“Naturally, I would be honored.” Nemo gave her a slight bow. 

“Of course we will,” Emma said. “It will be nice to sleep in a real bed again.” 

Killian, bless him, kept a straight face. 

 

*

 

One of Jasmine’s ladies-in-waiting showed Emma to her room. It was spacious and cool, and the painted tiles and silken hangings were red and gold. Doves cooed outside in the evening air. 

“I hope this is satisfactory, Your Highness? One of the servants will be right outside if you need anything.”

“You really don’t need to--” Uppermost in Emma’s mind was that fact that she and no one else was clearly intended to occupy the room, and Killian’s was two doors down. She probably ought to have expected it in this realm, but that didn’t make it any less annoying. 

“Oh, but I must! We so seldom have foreign guests.” The woman’s eyes crinkled with her smile. “And you’ve had a long journey, as I hear. Was it very hazardous?”

Emma had to stop and think about that. “About average for this realm, I’d say. Hungry krakens, evil genies, friendly mermaids. Just let me brush some of the dust off.”

That minor annoyance aside, Emma did feel better after a chance to clean up, and she found herself enjoying the evening when they all met again. The sultan and his court knew how to entertain guests on short notice; soft music played, and the food was sublime. If most of the conversation was about local politics and also thirty years out of date, at least she didn’t have to worry about making a contribution and could just enjoy the chance to relax. 

“Happier now?” Killian asked over the iced fruits at the end of the meal. The tide of conversation had turned toward Captain Nemo at the far side of the vast table. 

“Yeah. Just thinking how weird it is that I’m the only one in the room who’s never been stuck in time. But this is nice.” Emma glanced around the hall. One of the servants caught her eye and started forward, and she had to shake her head to forestall them. “I mean, I’ll probably never get used to all of the fuss, but it’s okay once in a while.” 

“Some fuss is be expected when a stray princess arrives at one’s door.” 

“Just for being born. It’s not like I had anything to do with it really.” 

“Perhaps, but even if you weren’t, you’ve surely earned accolades commensurate with the attention.” Killian gave her a look that warmed her like sunlight. “You’re a duly elected authority in your own world. Dragon-slayer, curse-breaker, defeater of giants, swordswoman, and a sorceress of unmatched puissance. What else?” He touched his lip with his tongue as he thought, which Emma considered unfair. “Outwitted Peter Pan, escaped the dungeons of the Evil Queen, fought the minions of the Wicked Witch.” 

“Are you writing my resume? You should get some honors, too, Captain. Pretty sure most of that stuff was a team effort.” She very much wanted to play with his hair, that bit of curl at the nape of his neck, and get back at him for the lip thing, but they were sort of in public; she settled for leaning closer. “Speaking of which, don’t we have a tradition of dancing whenever we visit this realm? I suppose there won’t be any tonight. They did put all of this together on short notice.” 

“That they did.” He dropped his voice lower, so even she could barely hear him. “Perhaps we could arrange for some later, to make up for the lack.” 

Separate rooms be damned. “You’re on. See you at midnight?” 

“I’ll leave a lamp burning.” 

 

*

 

Emma had just settled down to a very impatient two hours of waiting when when a quiet knock sounded on her door. She found Jasmine and the promised servant in the hall.

“What is it? Trouble?” Emma scanned the shadows for any hint of a threat. 

“No, no, I just… I needed someone to talk to. May I come in?” Jasmine had changed out of her Storybrooke clothes for dinner and back into what must be her own usual dress, beautiful blue and gold. Her hair was unbound, so she must have been abound to retire for the night. Emma had stuck with her own clothes rather than try climbing over balconies in a silk nightshirt. 

“Sure.” Emma stood aside. “What’s up?”

“I feel terribly awkward asking you about this.” Jasmine paced from the door to the balcony and back again. “I’ve been away so long, living among strangers. For all my friends and ladies here, it has only been a few hours. It’s all familiar and so terribly alien. I suppose I should have expected that.”

“Sometimes coming home is the hardest thing imaginable,” Emma said. 

“It is. But there’s something else. Um. Aladdin.” Jasmine sat down. 

“Oh? I thought you two were getting along.” Emma dragged a second chair around to face Jasmine’s. 

“Oh, we are! It’s amazing.” She smiled, but then sat forward with an earnest frown. “It’s just, well. True love? Really? I never really thought about it.” 

“Feels like a lot of pressure to live up to?”

“Yes.” 

Emma grimaced. “You really want my mom for this conversation. I’m not exactly an expert at love.” 

“You certainly could have fooled me. And a few other people.” 

Emma gave her a blank look. 

“You have no idea how much you’re spoken of in Storybrooke, do you.” Jasmine raised a fine eyebrow. “Both of you.” 

“I… guess I do not.” She found the idea more than a little unnerving. “But if you’re here for relationship advice, the point is that I am like way, way out of my depth.” She sat down with a sigh. “I mean, I can tell you that it doesn’t make things easy? You’ll still be the same people, still be scared or angry. I love Killian, and I know he loves me, but that doesn’t change that we’re here right now because we had a big fight the other day.” Jasmine looked shocked; Emma shrugged. “The thing is, you can’t spend your whole life with the dial turned up to eleven all the time? Even with love. Can’t be dying for each other every day. Life settles back. What makes it  _ real  _ is working through the day to day stuff.” She cast around for a way to explain as Jasmine looked dubious. “It’s like my dad says. He’s always talking about how important the little ordinary moments are, and -- hell, he and my mom argue all the time, shared heart or not. Usually, anyway, when they’re not cursed. But they love each other, so they sit down and work it out later. Does that make sense?”

“I suppose so.” 

“Look, you loved him before, right? And he loved you. So what’s different now? Other than that you know how he kisses.”

“I’m not sure. I did love him, before, but I was so afraid for so long. It’s hard to set that aside, and yet -- it’s as if my perspective changed, in that moment. When we kissed. I know I’m the same, that he’s the same, but… I see him differently, now.”

“Yeah.” Emma smiled at her own memories. “That probably won’t be the last time it happens.”

“Oh, it already hasn’t been.” Jasmine leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. “That was the other thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Perspective?”

“No.” She laughed. “Kissing. And, well, other things.”

“Oh?” Emma must have looked surprised; Jasmine blushed.

“In previous years, I’ve had neither time nor interest in dalliance with any of the court here,” she explained. “And in the Land of Untold Stories there are no new beginnings. So I find myself with little guidance in these matters.”  

“Got it.” Emma smiled. “Now here, I can probably be a lot more helpful than my mother would be. Bring on the questions.” 

 

*

 

Jasmine left looking a good deal more thoughtful than she had upon arrival. Emma wished her luck, and went out to her balcony. The courtyard below lay in alternating blocks of moonlight and shadows. A few torches moved where guards patrolled the iron gates. Most of the palace windows went dark as she waited. The sound of drums and flutes drifted up from the city, where the last of the revelers were determined to last out the night, celebrating release from their strange prison. Agrabah’s rulers were evidently of a more sober cast than her people.

At last, a bell far off in the palace tolled midnight. Emma stretched and looked to her right. In between her room and Killian’s, Aladdin’s lamps had gone out some time ago. She considered using magic to get over there for half an instant, then decided that it would be cheating. It wasn’t that far from one pierced stone railing to the next, and the stone walls with their profusion of decorative carving offered plenty of handholds. 

Emma swung a leg over the railing before she could have any second thoughts and started working her way across the gap. She had done a lot more risky things than this, she reminded herself, and for less reason. It was actually kind of fun. She made it to Aladdin’s balcony and stopped to catch her breath. No one stirred beyond the balcony curtains; he must already be asleep. She crept across the polished stone and repeated her maneuver on the other side, then peeked through the curtains to make sure that she did have the right room. 

Inside, a lamp was still burning as promised. Killian lay stretched out in a chair near it, paging through a book. He had his sleeves rolled up, hook set aside for the night, a languid shadow all in black. He glanced up and smiled as Emma came in. 

“I hoped that was you.” He started to get up, but she shook her head and joined him on the chaise, her gaze locked to his. Perspective shifts; light changes. Under a cold blue New York sky (maybe I do trust him), his eyes had been too honest for her to bear them for long. They were a little wide now, questioning her silence or her expression. 

“Just enjoying the moment,” Emma said. “And the view.” On a gray morning in Neverland (maybe I do want him), she had wondered what else a mouth might do that kissed like that. She bent her head to his now; anticipatory warmth unfurled within her. She traced his lips with her finger and laughed when he captured her. A conversation in kisses followed. They wandered often -- she nibbled on his lower lip and felt his pulse quicken; he explored every sensitized inch of her neck until her breath came shallow  -- and then returned to where they had begun, a gentle question and reply. 

Other lights and other skies meant other changes, meant a candlelit ballroom (maybe I do love him) and firelight and unaccustomed comfort grief. He moved his hand to cradle the back of Emma’s head. She melted down against him, rested her forehead against his and reached out to snuff the lamp. 

“Leave it,” Killian said. “I thought you said something about bed.” 

“We’ll get to the bed, promise.” She slid her hands under his shirt. Maybe this place wasn’t so bad. 

 

*

 

In the morning they went out into the city. It would be two days before the artisans there could craft the parts Nemo required. Nemo himself would be supervising the work, and politely hinted that the others would only be in the way. Jasmine and Aladdin were meeting with her father and his advisors, trying to figure out how to reestablish the city’s authority after decades of absence. 

“I don’t think we have much to add to that,” she said to Killian after breakfast in one of the palace’s tiny graceful salons. Fresh fruit, nuts, and some kind of honey pastry had left her feeling optimistic about the day. “I’m going to go stir crazy if we stay in here, unless maybe that’s the coffee talking, this stuff is incredible. It’s pretty, but I’ve had more than enough of being cooped up on the way here.”

“Alas, it does seem that we have little to offer Jasmine’s family. What have you in mind? The gardens are famous, I understand.” Killian gestured toward the nearest window, a tiny china cup almost invisible in his hand. Brightly colored birds flitted through the trees. 

“Then we’ll do that. And we should take a look around the city, since we have some time to kill. Buy some souvenirs. Catch a play, or something. I mean, I know this isn’t New York, but it’s the capital. Must be something to do.”

“I’m happy to see you put aside worry for a time. This is a fine land in which to seek distraction.”  

The square beyond the palace gates was already crowded. They walked from there to the city gates, where a thin stream of new arrivals made their way past the resolute guards. The ancient road had a destination again, and word was spreading quickly. Young folk stared in wonder at a city that to them was a legend come to life, and their parents were little less amazed to see the capital and its people unchanged despite the years that had passed in the outside world. Two foreigners passed without any notice whatsoever. 

In between pauses to watch the street performers and admire the city’s gardens (which she had to agree were of surpassing beauty), Emma watched Killian and wondered what was going on. He seemed to be looking for something, and twice wandered off out of sight while she considered some vendor’s wares. 

“Is there anyone you know in this town?” she asked eventually, having found a scarf that her mother would like.

“I doubt it.” He quirked an eyebrow. “If I do, it’s probably no one I want to see.”

“It’s just that you seem to be looking into every door we pass since we got to the market.” 

“Ah. Sorry. There was a shop I quite liked, somewhere in this quarter of the city.” He waved. “I forget exactly where. Probably long gone.” 

“What do you want to buy?” That made sense, particular as she knew him to be about his clothes and gear. 

“Stone is loose in one of these rings. It’s not terribly important.” 

Emma suspected that was not the entire truth, but he wore a hint of a smile that reassured her; she let it drop and settled for enjoying the morning. 

As mid-day approached and the heat grew intense, the crowds dwindled away. The two of them following the general migration indoors, and found one of the many low, white-walled refuges that lined the side streets around the market square. They shared some dried fruit and the sturdy local beer and speculated on events at home. 

“Two more days, and then however long it takes to actually fix things.” Emma sighed. “I would have liked this visit if it was a real vacation.” 

“Aye. But we’re doing all we can.” 

She reached out and took his hand, and a comfortable silence fell. After a while Killian shifted to lean closer to her, though he kept his hand loose in hers. She heard him take a breath that sounded like a decision.

“This might not be the best time, but I’d like to ask you something,” he said.

Emma braced herself. “Go ahead.”  

“What was it like, when you became the Dark One.”

She blinked, trying to read his expression; he didn’t look upset, just thoughtful, so she tried not to get defensive. “Terrifying.” He nodded. She sought more words, though they were slow in coming. “I was utterly alone. I didn’t know where I was,  _ what  _ I was, how long it would last -- it felt like hours. I guess it’s what being born would be like, if you knew it was happening. Um.” 

“Hm. I wonder if it’s different every time. If it knew that loneliness was a way in.” 

“Probably.” She took a fortifying breath. “So… it wasn’t like that for you, then, was it.” 

“Not exactly like, no.” He was quiet for so long that Emma wondered if he regretted broaching the subject. “The Darkness was new to you, and so it took some time for it to find a crack into which it might force a lever. With me, well. I was an old companion. Every moment of fury or despair was easily found to be relived there in that vault.” 

“Re… lived?” He was always precise with his words. 

“Aye.” 

“Oh.” Her voice shrank. “Milah?”

“And my brother, and others.” He shrugged. “I’ve lived with the memories for centuries, they have little power to wound these days -- individually. All together turned out to be a different matter.” 

“I think I understand. I--”

“This isn’t an effort to make you feel guilty, Emma. I just wanted to explain why I… succumbed, the other day. And I’m doing that because, well, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you, and I thought--”

Henry’s voice came from the shell Emma wore on a cord around her neck. “Mom? Mom, are you there?”

“Yeah kid, what is it?” She gave Killian a helpless look; his expression sharpened into concern, and Emma could see him shift into guard mode, watching the rest of the room to ensure they hadn’t attracted undue attention. She lowered her voice and spoke into the shell.  “We’re kind of in public right now.”

“You gotta get home right away.”

“We’re getting there as fast as we can, but--”

“It’s your parents. Something’s happened.” 

 


	3. Chapter 3

“My parents? What happened?” Emma said. The rest of the world faded from her awareness, whatever Killian had been about to ask her forgotten. 

“Um. Regina thought she had a way to break the curse on them. It looks like she made it worse.” 

“What?! How is it worse?” The rest of them had tried every combination of kissers and kissees they could think of, to no avail. True love was a complicated business.

“She was trying to help. But at sundown they’re both going to be asleep. They won’t be able to wake each other up any more.”

“So they’ll both be in the Netherworld forever….”

“...And they can’t touch there,” Henry finished. “She’s trying to find a solution now, but--”

“Maybe she should stop doing that. Christ.” She looked at Killian, who grimaced understanding and squeezed her hand. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Henry said, his voice breaking.

“It’ll be okay,” Emma said. “They’ll be okay. They’re old hands at this stuff. Lemme think, sundown there is… we’ve got about twelve hours?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, a little more maybe.”

“We will be there. We will think of a way. And I will stop the goddamn sun from setting if I have to, until we can break this curse.” 

“Okay. I believe you. Thanks, mom.” 

“See you tonight.” Emma tucked the shell away and stood. “So much for the scenic route. Let’s get back to the palace. Looks like we might be taking the genie back after all. I can poof us back to the island and--” And then what? They didn’t know any better than before how to break the curse. The tavern felt close and hot now, the curious eyes of strangers threatening. 

“There may be another way,” Killian said. 

“What? Of getting home?”

“You asked earlier if I knew anyone here. Not in this city, perhaps, but elsewhere in this realm I believe I have at least one acquaintance. Past time he divulged his secret.”  

 

*

 

They gathered their few belongings and some supplies, and made hasty farewells at the palace.

“I’m sure we will meet again soon,” Nemo said, clasping Killian’s shoulder. “We will make all haste and return to Storybrooke, in case we might be of aid.” 

“We’ll be there,” Killian said. “With apologies, Your Highness--” 

“Of course, we understand,” Jasmine said. “If there is anything we can do you have only to ask.” 

“Just need to borrow a mirror,” Emma said. “We’re in a hurry.”

Five minutes later, with the mirror before them, she asked, “So where are we going? I don’t recognize this place.” The scene her magic showed them could have been any street in any town in the Enchanted Forest, populated with carts and vendors and stray livestock. The problem with mirror viewing was that there wasn’t any zoom feature, and she could only teleport to a place she could visualize in detail. Showing up in the middle of the street would tip their hands, to say the least. 

“I do,” Killian said. “It’s on the southern border of Aurora’s kingdom. Always rough territory, no doubt a lawless zone again since she and her prince were removed to Storybrooke.” 

“But if I take us to her palace, we’ll be pretty close?”

“Aye, it should--”

Blink.

“--Do. Bloody hell, I will never get used to that.” 

Emma grinned, covering some of her tension as the cloud of black and white smoke dissipated. “It’s not my favorite means of travel, but it does the job.” Ringed by low hills, the dry landscape of Aurora’s kingdom stretched before them. Behind them, the palace showed no sign of life. “Looks like it did the first time I saw it. Like everyone is gone again.” 

“The land was all but deserted while Aurora lay beneath the sleeping curse. Rumor has it that Maleficent set many dangers about it, enchanted beasts and traps. Some may yet linger; they had little more than a year in which to begin restoring it before Zelena took them.” 

“That sucks.” She looked up at the crumbling spires and broken windows. “Never say never, I guess, but right now all it means is that we’re stuck walking. We can figure out the plan of attack along the way.”

 

*

 

Killian gave Emma a parting kiss and walked from the alley out into the street, toward the waiting tavern doors. The walk across Aurora’s land had been well spent; he had neatly stored away his frustration at the timing of Henry’s interruption that morning. Of course Emma’s parents came first, and he was nearly as concerned about them as she was, but… he put the question he had not gotten to ask out of his mind, in favor of the battle ahead. 

Sometimes in these moments, everything slowed down, as if time itself wished to know a moment’s pleasurable anticipation. It hadn’t always done so. For countless years, he had simply gone forward, blind as anything that lived always in the dark, with neither hope nor fear. Having something to fight for made the difference. This ought to be even more fun than the last time. 

He pushed the door open and followed his shadow in. They were in luck; Blackbeard had claimed a prime spot at the central table, and from the looks of that table, he had been losing. The other players shot Killian a brace of unfriendly looks as he sauntered over. He recognized one of them vaguely, but ignored the man. He kept his motions deliberate as he tipped a pouch of glittering gems out onto the table. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.” Killian grinned. “Actually, yes I did.” 

“Look what the tide brought in,” Blackbeard drawled, discarding a card. He did not look up. “Captain Hook.” 

“Evening, Blackbeard.” 

“Why do I have the feeling you’re going to tell me what it is that brings you here to interrupt my game.” 

“By the looks of that, I’d say I did you a favor.” He nodded at Blackbeard’s remaining stake. 

Blackbeard finally deigned to glower at him. “If you’d like one in return, I’m only too happy to oblige.” He stood up and drew his sword. 

“As luck would have it, I do need a favor.” Killian maintained his smile. “A magic bean, to be exact. I got one from you before; I’m willing to bet that you know where another is to be found.” 

“You bet, do you?” Blackbeard chuckled and lowered his sword. “Not with that sorry lot of baubles.” 

“Yes I know, the going rate is your weight in gold. Fortunately, I can offer you that, in a bit more easily portable form.” He stirred the jewels around with his hook. “This is but a taste.” 

Blackbeard showed his teeth at that, but roared out a laugh. “No pirate has that sort of gold. Don’t tell me you’re working for a king these days.” 

Killian let the smile fade a bit. “Don’t be as foolish as you look. You know how long I spent in Neverland. Time enough to accumulate a great deal of treasure. Might be enough to outfit a new ship -- assuming you can acquire one, since it appears you lost that, too.”

“Are you trying to antagonize me?”

“Yes.” 

“One might almost think you were in a hurry.”

“I’ve grown to dislike wasted time. Shall we?”

Blackbeard spent a long moment rolling the idea around before he sheathed his sword. “All right. I’ll hear this tale out, Captain.” He nodded to his fellow players, who vacated the table. Killian sat down. “As it happens, I don’t have a bean on me. The market is a small one, you know. Not many can pay what they’re worth. But I know where one can be found. Not far from here.” 

“Then we each know the location of something of great value to the other. Surely we can come to an arrangement.” 

“I hope you don’t think I’m going to trade you a bean for a map to this supposed haul.”

“Of course not. I’ll take you there personally.” Killian picked up a deck and shuffled it with practiced ease. The gems lay winking on the table between them. “And then you can get back to your game.” 

After a long moment, Blackbeard’s eyes creased in a smile. “Keep talking, Captain. And deal.” 

Two hands later, Blackbeard scooped up the jewels and said, “We have a bargain.” They left one of his companions to settle the bill and went out into the street. Emma left off pacing and turned with folded arms. 

“Well?” she said. “That took long enough.” 

Blackbeard looked her up and down and grunted. “What’d you have to sell for this one? Or wait, don’t tell me this is the wench you traded your ship to me for.” 

Emma sensibly ignored him and looked at Killian. “So we’re going?”

“We have a deal,” Killian said, and walked her a few steps, out of earshot. “Blackbeard will provide us with a means to return to Storybrooke. It’s not far from here, as it happens. Our old stomping grounds near the Siren’s Lake.”

“You don’t mean….?” She looked at Blackbeard again. “That guy? Climbed a beanstalk? All right, that should be easy enough. The place is abandoned now.”

“I’m not so sure about that. I very much doubt that he’s told me everything, but Blackbeard appears to have not availed himself of the treasure that languishes in the giants’ keep. Surely there’s a reason for that.” 

“Yeah, and I can’t wait to figure it out after we get out of here. We are running out of time, and Cloud City is a no-go zone in terms of magical transport. If we can get what we need without making another stop on the way home, I’m all for it.”

“We’ll see what we find. Worst case, you can go on to Storybrooke while I deal with Blackbeard.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Screw that, I’m not leaving you here. The last thing we need right now is getting separated. Let’s go find the damn beanstalk then -- again.” 

 

* 

 

Blackbeard insisted that they each carry a sack of grain on their journey, would not explain why, and regaled them the entire way with tales of his conquests. Killian wasn’t sure whether he or Emma was more tempted to stave the man’s teeth in by way of silencing him. Fortunately for all of them, the journey was not long, though Killian found it surpassing strange to tread paths he had last known as Cora’s associate. Revenge-driven, death-bound, without hope -- none of them had any inkling of what had been set in motion.  

“What’s that smile for?” Emma asked. 

“Recalling how fiercely you glared at me, the last time we were in this land.” 

“To be fair, you were being kind of an ass.”

“And you were brilliant.” Seeing through his every stratagem, leaving him off-balance, intrigued even by her betrayal, she had given him the first reason in many years to wish that things were different. Half lost in memories, he nevertheless took note of the horizon. The beanstalk loomed to their left, a growing thread that would soon dominate the sky. Clouds over the hills suggested rain on the way. “Either this path does not follow the route I remember….”

“Or we’re not actually going to the beanstalk.” Emma stopped walking. “Any idea where he might be leading us? I forgot to ask Jasmine for a map.” 

Killian shook his head. “The land grows wet and difficult in a few miles. There are no towns out here, and no major routes that might be haunted by bandits, uniformed or otherwise. So, no.”  

“He’d better not be messing with us.”

They half-walked, half-slid down the next slope -- down, and farther down, as Killian had remembered. Springs bubbled out of the hillside and ran together into chuckling streams that pooled in the low ground ahead. The way grew swampy.  The path turned and hugged the edge of the dry ground until the pools to their right merged into a shallow lake. A lively chorus of birds and insects sang in the reeds. 

“This looks like a good spot,” Blackbeard said at last. The path had widened into a field. Short, scrubby grass grew among the rocky outcrops, and the reeds had fallen away as the lake deepened, leaving clear water on that side. 

“For what?” Emma said, putting her hands on her hips. “A picnic?”

“Spread some of that grain out, and we’ll wait.”

“We’ll  _ wait? _ Look buster, I don’t know if you’ve figured this out, but I am not really in a patient place today, and I am getting closer to a punching place every minute.” 

“You don’t say.” Blackbeard looked at Killian. “Really, Hook. If you tell anyone I said so I’ll cut out your tongue, but you were a passable pirate, once. This one hardly seems worth all the….” He made a chattering gesture with his hand. “Mouthiness.”

“I wouldn’t make any casual threats, were I you,” Killian said. “If you’re that anxious to reprise our conversation aboard the  _ Jolly Roger _ , I’ll be pleased to oblige, once our mission is complete. Now answer the lady.” 

“You’ll see soon enough.” He set to scattering grain. “Come on, the both of you, if you’re in such a hurry.” 

Indeed, the birds quickly discovered the new supply of bounty. Inside of a quarter hour, the meadow wore a noisy feathered carpet. Blackbeard scanned the sky and finally gave a satisfied bark and pointed. 

“There. Told you it wouldn’t be long.”

Killian shaded his eyes and studied the sky, and found himself at an unusual loss for words. 

“Oh no,” Emma said. “Absolutely not. You didn’t mention this last time.” 

“It didn’t seem relevant,” Killian said. “And I confess I didn’t realize their size.” 

“Giant. Golden. Geese.” Two pairs of wings darkened the sun. The animals were on a scale to match their owners; the leader’s bass  _ honk _ sounded through twenty feet of neck and nearly knocked the three of them over, but the birds ignored them. 

“Appears so.” 

“They live in the giants’ domain,” Blackbeard said. “But they like a free meal, as it turns out. They’ll eat this and then head for home, up there. The eggs are on the rich side, I’ve found, but one can acquire a taste for them.” 

“And we’re going to hitch a ride,” Emma said. 

“If you’re as determined as you say you are to get back home.” Blackbeard grinned. “They barely notice the weight.” 

Emma sighed. “I guess it will be faster than climbing, and that’s after I figure out a way around the blocking spells. Sure, why not. Let’s do it.” 

“Why let us in on your secret?” Killian studied him through narrowed eyes, trying to detect a trap. 

“You were hardly going to let me go off alone to get a bean or two. And besides, you’ve made it amply clear that your only interest in this realm is in leaving it. Why shouldn’t I encourage that? Clear the field of dilettantes. It’s a changed world here, you know. Plenty of opportunities for a bold man.” 

“You’re welcome to them.” He looked at the birds, then at Emma. “Shall we, Swan?”

 

*

 

“I gotta admit,” Emma yelled, “this is quite a view!” The rush of the wind past her ears made her doubt that Killian had heard her, but that might have been an answering chuckle behind her. The Enchanted Forest lay spread out beneath them. The dusty patchwork of Aurora’s realm ended abruptly at the ocean and faded more gently into the greener land to the north, the whole seamed by rivers and roads and dotted with villages whose smoke drifted up to the sky. Above them, Emma noted, the clouds were very close. Her mount’s wings pumped strongly twice, and then they were in the clouds and through, almost before she could be alarmed at the thought of what, exactly, they were inside  _ of _ . 

On this side, the sun shone bright. Fields that had once been farmed by Anton’s family lay in weedy tangles. The castle ruins hulked nearby. The geese slowed and banked over the fields. 

“This is where we get off,” Blackbeard hollered, and jumped. 

“Of course we do,” Emma muttered. She let go of the golden feathers and managed a rolling landing without grace, but also without injury, cushioned by a bed of weeds. Killian landed a few feet away. They thrashed their way clear of the outside plants and caught their breath. “That was one hell of a ride.” The geese waddled off toward their pond, giving the occasional deafening honk.

“Ought to do it again.” Killian grinned at her. 

“We’ll go to Six Flags this summer, you can try all the roller coasters.” She bounced on her toes and felt the ground solid under her boots, not cloudlike at all, and decided not to ask. 

Blackbeard had survived well enough to roll his eyes. “If you two will watch the castle, I’ll go find what we’re here for. A few of the bean plants have gone feral, but they move around from year to year.” 

“Watch it for what?” Emma said. “This place hasn’t been inhabited in years, the last giant left in the realms is riding a tractor in Storybrooke.”  

“Is he now? I’d advise you to keep away from it anyway, and keep an eye out.” He jogged off toward the fields. 

Emma watched him go, and the way he constantly checked the horizon all around. “He’s in a big hurry.”

“Aye. One does wonder if the vermin are as outsize as the rest of the dwellers?” 

“That could be it. I can probably handle a rat if we meet one. You want to check out the castle? I can’t figure out what it is, but something looks different here,” she said. 

“The sun is out, for one thing, but you’re right.” Killian nodded. “Shall we?”

“You really do want to see if the gold is still there.” Emma couldn’t stop a smile at this realization. 

“Perhaps? Call it academic interest.” 

They set off, Emma still trying to figure out what had changed, and reached the courtyard at the top of the beanstalk. 

“It looks… cleaner,” she said. “It’s not just the daylight.” Broken windows gaped in the walls, and vines grew over them, but the rubble in the courtyard had been swept into a tidy pile, and there was no sign of the skeletal remnants of the last battle. “And I’m hardly the tracker my mom is, but I don’t see any footprints or anything.” 

“Aye. Someone has been here. Or something.” Killian paced a circle around the stalk’s terminus. 

Emma kept one eye on the great hall, but nothing moved there as she climbed the head-high pile of stones for a better view, and she heard nothing but the wind. “Some of these rocks are huge. Maybe a new family of giants moved in? You’d think Blackbeard would have just said.” 

“I suspect he enjoys being obscure.” 

“Enjoys needling you, you mean. I wonder…. Killian.” She stopped short.

“Yes?”

“Come over here.” She thought that she sounded commendably calm, under the circumstances.

“What is it?” He hastened to the base of the pile. 

“It’s up here.” When he got there, she was gratified to see the question die before he could ask it. “Am I wrong, “ she said, “or does that look like a baby tree up there?”

“You are never going to allow me to forget that, are you.”

She squeezed his hand. “What do you think?”

“I think we may have something here that could help your parents.” 

“I really, really hope so. Let’s go see.” They climbed the rest of the way up the pile, where a few green leaves fluttered against the stone. The sapling was taller than it had looked from below, partially hidden by the rocks through which it had grown. “Seriously?” Emma realized that she was grinning. “Is this really a thing?” 

“I think it is, Swan.” He touched a branch with a wondering expression. She knew what he was thinking, the same thing she was:  _ We made this, a little piece of magic, of life, without ever knowing, with so much still ahead of us _ . “What now?” he asked.

“I don’t know. But it was supposed to be magic powerful enough to defeat the Evil Queen’s. Maybe we just need to get enough love in one place, for that to work. Do you think we need all of it?” Emma grimaced. “I’d hate to kill it.”

“Aye, that doesn’t seem proper. A part might suffice.”

“I hope so. This branch?” She traced one from the trunk to its cluster of brilliant leaves. “I wonder what the flowers look like.” 

“Perhaps we can come back and find out. For now, I fear we’ve little time.” He set his hook to the base of the branch she held and--

_ They were standing in that same place but all was darkness, her arms and legs ached from the climb and her hand was bleeding and _

_ Oh no _

_ If she kissed him nothing would change everything changed  _

_ His ship was gone her magic was gone son of a bitch a partner _

_ She kissed him again and everything changed again and _

_ I love you _

_ The sword was in her hand was in his heart  _

_ Tears and then tears again in the rain and they were _

\--Standing in the castle courtyard, next to a young tree that trembled in the breeze. 

“Jesus, you’d think Mom would have mentioned.” Emma blinked a few times, hard. The two of them had drawn closer together while the memories flowed, hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder. 

“You all right?” Killian looked hardly less shaken than she felt, but his hand was warm in hers, steadying the both of them. 

“I think so. That was… intense.” 

“Quite. Ready?” At her nod, he made a sharp cut with his hook, and the branch came away in Emma’s hand. 

“Looks almost like a wand,” she said, and healed the cut spot on the sapling’s trunk. “Hope you don’t mind too much, little guy, but some people I love kinda need this. Grow nice and big, okay?” It would not have surprised her if the tree had answered, but it didn’t. “Killian, why don’t you hold onto this?” Emma passed him the branch. He looked surprised, so she added, “I know all of your coats have magic pockets, that tailor is a witch. We don’t want to lose that. Want to check on the treasure?”

“Aye, that is what we came to look at.” He tucked the branch into his jacket. They climbed down the rubble pile and waited for a moment, but no threat emerged from the cavernous hall. 

The new owners had tidied up inside as well. The hall had been stacked with treasure higher than their heads on both sides, but all of that was gone. They exchanged a glance and slowed down without need for speech, moving quietly and keeping to the shadows. When Killian stopped, Emma did, too. He touched his ear; she listened harder. That sound could just be the wind. She raised her eyebrows; should they go on? He nodded. Emma flexed her hands, a nervous habit she had not managed to get rid of before using magic. They moved slowly toward the main hall. 

That solved the mystery of where the treasure had all gone. The giant table and other furnishings were no more; the gold and jewels that had survived tides of human marauders had been heaped at the center of the room. It was occupied.

_ That is a dragon, _ Emma mouthed silently at Killian.

He frowned and held up two fingers. 

_ Fine, whatever, that is two dragons.  _ Emma watched for a moment. They appeared to be asleep, comfortably entwined on their golden bed, careless as only enormous flying armored predators could be. Whether the blissful scene meant that a clutch of little dragons was going to arrive to terrorize the Enchanted Forest soon or not, Emma didn’t see any reason to wake them. 

They backed out of the hall without making a sound. That treasure could stay exactly where it was. 

They rendezvoused with Blackbeard near the pond, where the pirate sat carving hunks off a fallen apple big enough to use for a chair. He laughed when he saw the pair of them look over their shoulders. 

“Didn’t find any treasure, eh.” 

“Guess not. Did you find the bean?” Emma asked. 

“If I didn’t, how do you suppose we would be getting down from here?” 

“Maybe you could jump. Can we get on with this?” 

“Always wanted to see Neverland.” Blackbeard reached into the pouch at his side and drew out a translucent bean. “Who wants to do the honors?” He chuckled, probably at Killian’s expression. 

“I’ll do it.” He took the bean and held it up to the sun for a moment, then threw it. The ground began to glow where it fell.

 

*

 

Neverland had changed. Emma could tell that with the first breath she took on the far side of the portal -- the air was  _ cold _ . The jungled island she remembered so well had been replaced by a forest, the kind she had always imagined in fairy tales -- huge, gnarled trees that blocked out the sun immediately beyond the beach. 

“What the hell?” she said. “Are we in the right place?”

“We are,” Killian said. “I know this beach, those rocks. This is where I intended to bring us. The rest has changed -- rather dramatically, I should say.”

“Maybe because Pan’s gone?” Emma looked out toward Skull Rock. Creepers had grown over one of the eyes, and no light shone in the cave’s depth.  

“Who cares,” Blackbeard said. “We’re here for my treasure, let’s get it. Unless you’re trying to cheat me,” he added. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Killian said. “Follow the shore until a stream comes out of the forest, then we--” An arrow zipped past his head and splintered against a rock at the water’s edge. 

Emma threw a protection spell into place without thinking; the next arrow bounced off of it. 

“What the hell?” she said. “There shouldn’t be anyone here. The Lost Boys are all in Storybrooke.” Another arrow flew. “Oh to hell with this.” A wave of her hand took them away from the beach, to the shelf of stone at Skull Rock, out of reach of their attackers. 

“Swan,” Killian said in a strangled voice. “That was--”

“Risky, yes, but there’s no dreamshade growing out here. Relax.” She glared in the direction of the main island. 

Blackbeard finished patting himself down to make sure that all was present. “Do that again, and you can make your own way home from here.”

“Or I could send you back over there to get shot at.”

“We have a deal!” 

“And it will be honored,” Killian said. “But first--” He ducked again as something that was not an arrow zoomed through the group. It had wings, and it doubled back to hover over them with folded arms and a frown. 

“What are you doing here?” the flying figure demanded. 

“Who are you?” Emma asked. 

“My name is Tiger Lily.”  

“Really? But you’re a fairy.”

“You noticed!” She flew closer to examine Emma. “I am the guardian of this island. No adults should be in this realm. Not even that one.” She glanced darkly at Hook.  “And you used magic.”

“Sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met?” he said.

“No, but trust me, I’ve heard all about  _ you _ .” 

“Great.” Emma forced a smile. “Maybe we could start this conversation over? I’m Emma. I’m the--a Savior. Snow White’s daughter. We know Blue, if that helps. And you know Hook, kind of. That’s Blackbeard. Why is everything different here?” 

Tiger Lily sighed and changed size. Even for a fairy, her gown was elaborate, ruffled and spangled and looking quite out of place in Neverland. “Look, after Pan left and ceased draining away the magic to support his twisted vision of immortality, this realm began to return to what it once was, a place where children of all lands adventure in their dreams. Because of their belief, there is pixie dust here again. Ever since the Dark Curse and its successors, the fairies who remain in the Enchanted Forest have taken it in turns to watch the children there, and so here I am. Now, I think it’s your turn.” She twirled her wand meaningfully. 

“We’re here to retrieve some of Hook’s things from when he was here before, Pan’s time. We didn’t expect anyone to be here. Sorry if we startled you.” 

“What things?”

“Buried treasure,” Killian said. 

“Is that so.” Tiger Lily narrowed her eyes further, clearly suspicious. “And why should I allow you to trespass here to reclaim a pirate’s ill-gotten gains?”

“I might add that it was stolen from unrighteous kings and thieving merchants, other pirates, and the occasional murderous mermaid. Just the thing for the dreams of growing children.”

“That’s my treasure,” Blackbeard growled, putting his hand to his sword. 

“Trust me, there’s more than enough to go around.” Killian watched Tiger Lily weigh his words while Emma tried to figure out what his game was. Was that just it? A game, to replace Pan’s lethal ones for the new children who came here--and went home again after their adventure was done, as they ought to?  

“Show me this alleged treasure,” Tiger Lily said, returning to her flying size. “And then I’ll decide.” 

“We are in kind of a hurry,” Emma said. “We’re trying to help my parents.” 

“You can tell me all about it on the way.” 

 

*

 

“I know it sounds fantastic,” Emma finished. 

“I’m a fairy,” Tiger Lily said. “Fantastic is kind of my job. And so is getting to the truth of things that seem unbelievable.” 

While they talked, Killian led them with utter confidence despite the changes in the landscape. Night began to fall; Emma fretted, seeing the time grow shorter before the curse on her parents tightened its grip. 

“Here,” he said at the cliff’s base, not far from where Baelfire had hidden all those years ago. The entrance was hidden by creepers. They cleared those away to reveal a dip in the ground that effectively made the cave entrance all but invisible. “Your treasure lies within.” 

Blackbeard pushed past him, then paused just shy of the opening. “I would have put traps about any treasure of mine.” 

“What for?” Killian shrugged. “The Lost Boys had no use for it. Pan could make them rivers of gold coins whenever he wanted to, using the island’s magic.” 

“Is that so.” Blackbeard looked thoughtful, like maybe he was trying to summon such a river.

“It won’t work for you,” Tiger Lily said with an impatient sigh. “You’re old, mortal, and a cynic, with not an ounce of belief in anything. I will see if there is any danger.” She gave them all a suspicious look and darted past Blackbeard. A light grew from the tip of her wand. The captain grunted and followed her into the cave. 

“Well,” Tiger Lily said, her voice echoing slightly. She sounded nonplussed. 

“All right Hook, you’re not a liar,” Blackbeard called over his shoulder. “At least, not about this.”

Outside, Emma looked at Killian. “Why didn’t you take it when you left Neverland?”

“Didn’t have time. And this is just one stash, love. I had others that were easier to reach.” He shrugged and looked self-conscious. “After a century or so, it started to lose meaning really. Just a way of keeping score. Speaking of which.” Killian produced a small leather pouch from within his jacket and tossed it to Emma with a grin. She opened it; pale, glimmering magic beans lay jumbled within, some still in their pods, translucent as emeralds.

“When did you…?” She glanced at the cave mouth. Tiger Lily and Blackbeard were well out of sight, and even their voices had grown muffled as they explored the trove.

“Just now, while he was preoccupied with the thought of his payment. We’ll leave him one bean if you like, but I would just as soon not dodge the outsize wildlife next time we’re in need of a means to cross realms. And who knows, perhaps he’ll choose to stay on here. What would Neverland be without a pirate or two. Now, shall we go home?” 

 

*

 

The portal dropped them outside the loft. A light snow fell onto Main Street. They had perhaps an hour until sunset. They climbed the steps to find the family gathered there. Regina sat at the kitchen table, lips pressed into a thin line, watching the dimming light. Henry sat opposite her, poring over the storybook as he did when he was worried; he bolted to his feet when the door opened. 

“Mom! It’s good to have you back.” Henry hugged Emma until her ribs creaked.

“It’s good to be back.” Emma turned to the bed, where Snow sat, holding her husband’s hand. “And I think we’ve got something that can help.” Killian drew the wand from his jacket and passed it over; she took it gingerly, half-expecting another flood of memories, but it lay quietly in her hand. The leaves that still clung to it shivered, but maybe that was just her nerves. 

“Emma.” Snow reached out to take Emma’s hand, too. She looked very calm and sad, and couldn’t seem to find any words.

“It’s going to be all right.” Emma closed her eyes for a moment. Love, it was love that would do this, if anything would. She remembered the days after the curse, how awkward hugs had turned comforting and strained conversations warm. Thought about her brother. Remembered the last time she had seen her parents stand together, unafraid.  _ My family _ , and she loved them more than she once imagined she could. Magic pulled her deeper into the memories, a torrent rushing through her, pushing her conscious thoughts aside. Not long ago it would have terrified her. Now she waited out that initial fury, then focused all of it into the slim branch she held. She could feel it striving against the force that wrapped around her parents’ hearts, to no avail. 

“It’s not working,” Regina snapped. “It’s not strong enough.” 

Emma blinked. “Not quite,” she agreed, biting her lip as she lowered the wand. “We need… oh.” She looked from her anguished mother to her sleeping father to the branch in her hand. 

“What is it?” Snow asked. “It’s nearly sunset. What else is there to try?” 

“I think I know. Wait here,” she said. Killian caught her eye, no doubt guessing where she was going. Emma shook her head. “Keep an eye on them. I’ll be back soon.”

 

*

 

The shop bell jangled hard enough to jam itself. 

“Good, you’re here,” Emma said. “I want to buy something.”

“Oh?” Gold looked up from the books he had spread across the counter, no doubt seeking a means to deal with his wayward son. “Now what can you want badly enough to break down my door.” 

“Sands of Morpheus.” 

He shook his head. “That won’t work.”

“Let me judge that. What do you want for it?” 

Gold turned to the cabinet behind the counter and pulled out the bottle of sand. “I still don’t know how Gideon managed to use it the way he did, to wake Belle. But if you can’t wake your parents in this world, you can’t in their dream world, either.”

“Well then you’re gonna have a lot to laugh about today.”

“It has been a while since I met anything truly amusing.” 

“Do you want to deal or not?”

He set the bottle down and studied her, a leisurely stare designed to get on her nerves. She returned it without blinking until he smiled and said, “What I would like, well, I suspect you won’t wish to trade.” 

“A renewal of our non-interference deal? Hell, no. You’ve messed with me once too often for that. But we don’t have to have our showdown today. What else?” 

“Your help in finding Gideon. Your word that no harm will come to him at your hand.”

Emma nodded. “Deal.” 

“Then whether or not you succeed, I will have gained something of value.” He retrieved a vial from beneath the counter and tipped some of the sand into it. “Sweet dreams, Miss Swan.” 

 

*

 

Emma returned just as the sun began to set. Nothing had changed at the loft, not that she had expected it to. Grim silence prevailed. 

Snow jumped up when Emma came in. “That took more than a minute.” 

“Yeah, but it’s okay,” Emma said. 

“What are you going to do?” Regina asked, narrow-eyed. 

“We’re going to wait for the sun to set. Trust me,” Emma added. “This is going to work.” She pulled a chair over next to the bed and sat down. “We’re all three going to do this, as a family. And I’m sure my baby bro would help out, if he could talk yet. Maybe next time.” 

Snow shook her head, tears winking at the corner of her eyes, but she squeezed Emma’s hand. “We trust you, Emma.” 

“Good.” She took a deep breath and arranged herself in the chair, then took up the wand again. Killian came over to stand behind her, his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him and smiled. “See you soon.” 

“That had better be the case, Swan.” He kissed her forehead and stepped back, out of range of the sand’s effect. 

Emma uncapped the vial with her thumb and dumped the contents over herself. The magic took effect quickly; between one blink and the next, she was in darkness. 

A distant flicker of light suggested a destination, but she had nothing by which to gauge its size or distance. She reached out blindly and found nothing within arm’s reach. Beneath her the ground was cold and smooth, dusty marble. 

“Allll right.” Emma took a breath and started forward, fixing her gaze on the light. Her mother, her father, her son had all been here; she knew how the curse’s dream-world worked. Even so, her grip on the wand tightened until her hand hurt, fighting off the creeping fear that she had made a terrible mistake, that she was in the wrong place, that she would be trapped here forever, that she would never see any of her family again. The darkness swallowed her footfalls, so the only sound was her own breath. She gritted her teeth and stomped onward, trying to make a noise, to make some kind of impact on this cold and silent world. The light grew brighter so slowly that for a long while she thought it was an illusion. 

She ran smack into the mirror, so focused on the light she saw in it that she didn’t realize at first the faint shadow was her own reflection. 

“I’ve been going the wrong way?” The light had been behind her all this time. Emma placed her palm on the glass and sagged against it, already feeling a crushing weariness that would never be relieved by slumber. “Fuck this. Idiot. How could I be so--” She stopped. “How could I  _ forget _ .” 

The rooms were walled with mirrors here, and her parents were on the far side. She just had to break through. A well-aimed boot with all the force of her anger and fear did the trick. Light and heat exploded through the gap, and she had to remind herself that this was a dream, and that the fire would respond to her fear if she let it. . 

She found them in the center of the room, together -- as she had known they would be -- sitting where they could look at one another despite the leaping flames, unable ever to touch as long as the curse continued. 

“Emma!” they both said at once, starting to their feet. 

“Emma, what are you doing here?” David asked, reaching out for her before he remembered. 

“It’s going to be okay, dad.” Emma couldn’t stop herself; she tried to grip his arm. Her hand passed right through him. “Didn’t you tell him?” she asked Snow.

“I was hoping you would change your mind. You shouldn’t be here,” her mother said. “It looks like even true love has limits.” 

“You know, I’ve had moments where I doubted. Times when I didn’t believe. But now I just think that sometimes, even true love can use a helping hand. I helped you once before, under the Dark Curse, and I didn’t even know you. And I love you both, very much.” Emma raised the wand. 

“Is that…?” David asked. Even under the circumstances, he could look happy for her. 

“Ours? Yeah. Killian and I found it.” She could tell that it didn’t like being in this place, this cruel negative landscape intended to be forever loveless and alone. “Get ready, I don’t know how long I can do this.”

Once again, she called upon love -- their love for one another, all the stronger for being together, even in this terrible world, their love for her and hers for them. From outside the dream she drew more strength, the faith that Henry and Killian had in her, her longing to return to them, for their family to be whole after so many weary weeks. 

The flames died back. A different kind of light grew, shining in the space between Emma and her parents, driving away the shadows. She didn’t have to tell them when; they had been straining toward another since she began the spell, and a single instant was all it needed, a second in which they were solid to one another, and their lips could touch. 

 

*

 

Emma woke up as the dreamscape vanished, and found her parents still locked in a tearful kiss in this realm as they had been in the other, barely aware of anyone else, inarticulate with relief and joy, until they both sat bolt upright.

“Neal!” David looked at the crib.

“He’s at Granny’s,” Snow said. “I didn’t want him to be here when… well, if things didn’t work.”

“Well done.” Regina raised an eyebrow at Emma. “I’ll just go tell her the good news. She’ll be glad to be relieved of sitter duty, I suppose.” 

“I’ll go, too,” Henry said in a hurried fashion, and with a glance at Killian that Emma was at a loss to interpret. “And, um, turn on the heat back at the house. See you there!” He was gone before Emma could ask what on earth was going on. She looked at her parents, a little misty-eyed herself.

“I believe our work here is done,” Killian said in her ear.

“Yeah, I guess so. I’ll give you guys a call in the morning, okay,” she said, not that they probably heard her. “And, uh, yeah. Later.” Emma tucked the wand into the back pocket of her jeans. They left quietly and descended the stairs to the street, where they paused to lean against one another. 

“That ended well,” Killian said.

“Yeah. I’m just glad it worked.” She blew out a sigh, felt exhaustion descend on her with the snow. “It has been one hell of a week. And a month.” 

“It has been a memorable adventure.”

“Not that it was all bad. Do you want to go home?” Now that they were back, she abruptly recalled the day they had left on their unplanned journey. The fresh snowfall, the stillness of the night, made it feel as if no time had passed while they were gone. The street was all but empty, the oncoming night and weather driving Storybrookers indoors. Emma looked up into his eyes. Sometimes it still made her breath catch, the way he looked at her. She raised up a bit to kiss him; contentment flooded through her. They leaned against each other, foreheads touching. 

“I’ll always love coming home with you,” she murmured.

“Always. However many adventures await at the end of the world.”

Emma nuzzled his jaw. “Well, maybe we can take a few days off first. Home?”

“Aye. There is one thing I would like to do now, however.”

“Isn’t that how we ended up on the Nautilus?”

He laughed. “I suppose it was. This won’t take long, I hope.”

“All right, I’m curious.” She stepped back. 

Killian reached into an inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a folded scrap of velvet. There in the snow on the sidewalk, he went down on one knee. 

“Emma Swan, will you marry me?”


	4. Chapter 4

For a moment Emma couldn’t speak. The teasing look had gone from Killian’s expression, leaving only the open question, the shining adoration in his eyes.  

“I know the future can hold many dangers,” he said. “But I promise you, no matter what it brings, I will be at your side for as long as you wish.” 

Emma breathed out. “I.... wow.” She looked down for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts, to put together a coherent sentence, and had to settle for, “Yes. Yes, I will.” She couldn’t stop smiling. Snowflakes were melting in her hair and his as she held out her hand. She hadn’t even looked at the ring, having eyes only for him at first, but she glanced down as he slipped it on. Its simple, graceful shape reminded her of her mother’s. Two small diamonds flanked a single ruby, and the band had been carved with fantastic delicacy to resemble a flowering vine. 

“Where did you find this? It’s gorgeous.” Red and gold; she smiled even more. 

“In Agrabah, where I was certain you were going to guess what I was about, to be honest. I had one from the shop here in town already, but I think this suits you better.” He kissed her hand and stood up. “And it can be a reminder of our adventure, a memory I hope will not displease you?”

“Hardly, but I hope you kept the re--wait, how long have you been thinking about this?” More things fell into place. “You talked it over with Henry, didn’t you. While I was in the dream world. That’s why he sprinted off like that.”

“It seemed proper to broach the topic. He’s at a delicate age, but he seemed pleased. And I have been considering it for a few weeks.” 

Emma laughed and hugged him. “Sneaky. Yes. Yes, I will marry you.” She savored the words as something she had never thought she would say, now part of a moment to cherish for the rest of her life. “I love you.”

“I love you, Emma.” They kissed under the snow.  

“Let’s go home and give Henry the news.” 

“Do you want to talk to your parents?” He glanced up at the loft windows.

“I think we should just wait to see how long it takes them to notice.” 

 

*

 

As it happened, Snow and Charming were not much seen until the evening of the following day, both of them fairly glowing with happiness. Half the town squeezed into Granny’s for an impromptu curse-breaking celebration, convivial in defiance of Gideon’s constant enigmatic threat. Despite the crowd and the constant stream of well-wishers, Snow’s gaze focused on Emma’s left hand with laser-like precision as soon as she and Killian arrived. 

“Well that’s new. Emma? Do you have something to tell us?”

“Was that under ten seconds, do you think?” she asked Killian.

“Absolutely.”

“All right, you win. The bet was five dollars, right?”

“Ten, as you know quite well.”

“Damn.” Emma turned to Snow. “Yes, mom, we do, but this is your party. We can wait.” She shared a secret smile with Killian. 

“All the more reason! I can’t imagine a better way to celebrate than with even more happy news.” 

“Hey, everybody!” David hollered. The gathering quieted. “Thank you all for coming. It’s wonderful to see you all here, all of us together at last, proof that no evil can stand for long in the face of true love. And I think it’s about to get even more wonderful. And more love-ful.”

“How much has he had to drink?” Emma muttered, blushing hard; Snow giggled and elbowed her with the arm not holding Neal. 

“Emma?” David relinquished the floor to her. 

“Uh… h, everybody.” She glanced at Killian and grabbed his hand, pulling him closer. “We have an… announcement, I guess? We’re engaged.” She leaned into his shoulder as the crowd erupted in cheers. The well-wishers who had just finished swarming her parents reformed around Emma and Killian. Leroy was loudly heard demanding that Happy pay up. Granny gave up trying to keep track of tabs and just passed around trays of drinks. Emma soaked in the communal joy and thought she might actually be glowing. Even better was seeing Killian buoyed by that same swell of positive emotion, the sense that both of them were truly home. 

The party went on well into the night. Once the flood of congratulations had dwindled, Emma settled in the corner booth where she could watch her family. 

“What happened to your branch from the sapling?” Henry asked. 

“It’s tucked away somewhere safe,” Emma said. 

“I hope that doesn’t mean it’s out in the garden shed.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “If it was, I certainly wouldn’t say so.” It wasn’t, of course. “Anyway, I don’t think anyone else would be able to use it.” Just in case she was wrong about that, it was in a hiding place she had made under the floorboards, and only she and Killian could open it, together. 

“Just you?”

“Well, one of us, probably.” Emma shrugged. She still hadn’t gotten around to asking Killian about the dreamcatcher. If it hadn’t occurred to him how odd that was, well, maybe it didn’t need talking about. If it came up again, she would ask. Between her and Henry, there was more than enough magic for one family.

Henry sat forward with his elbows on the table. “You ducked the question last night, so I have to ask again: when’s Operation White--”

“Please, no,” Emma interrupted, laughing. “This one really doesn’t need to be an operation. It’s a wedding. Just a normal event. They happen every day.” She glanced at Killian, savoring the thought of an ordinary, joyful celebration, of the paradox of love, that it was always unique in its particulars, but shared by so many in outline. 

“You’re not going to be any fun about this, are you.” Henry sighed. “Fine, when’s the  _ wedding  _ going to be?”

“Just about three months from now,” Killian said. “In the spring. How would you feel about being best man?”

“You’re joking.” 

“Not in the least. It’s a very important responsibility, and one I would be honored to have you undertake.”  

“I’ll leave you two to discuss it,” Emma said, still grinning as she got up to refresh her drink. “I know everything will be in good hands.” 

 

*

 

Not two days later, “I have a few ideas,” Snow announced, barging in through the (locked) front door at very nearly the crack of dawn.

“Uh… hi, mom.” Emma turned away from the door long enough to tie the robe she had thrown on when she came down to get coffee. “What, um, brings you here so bright and early?” She did a hasty review of the morning’s activities and pulled the collar tighter around her neck, too. 

“This!” Her mother dropped a binder on the kitchen table and flipped it open. 

With a grimace and mental apologies, Emma drank some coffee and looked through the pages. The binder had tab-divided sections running from A (appetizers) to V (venue), and was several inches thick. 

“This is… a lot of ideas,” Emma said, pretending to study the checklist in front of her.  One year prior, she was apparently supposed to have hired a planner -- though from the looks of it, her mother had that covered.

“The big question of course is where to have it. Fortunately, I think, the town hall is really the only place big enough. And I think we can make it very festive, it just needs a few hangings and maybe some candles, the light in there is actually quite lovely at the right time of day, oh and there has to be a carpet of course. I think we can insist on black tie if we give people enough warning, although your father disagrees, but then he also seems to think that we could have it at the convent. The gardens are lovely, okay, but it just isn’t big enough, so I told him--”

“Mom. Slow down.” 

“Right.” Snow took a deep breath and folded her hands on the table, beaming. “I’m just so excited that you’re finally going to have a day as special as you deserve.” 

“I’m excited, too, mom. It’s just that, this is  _ our  _ wedding.”

“Of course! That’s why I brought all this.” Snow cocked her head. “And I have a whole section on tuxedos, too -- oh, is Killian still asleep? I didn’t realize how early it was, I could hardly sleep I was so excited to get to work.”

“Yeah, he’s… still in bed.” Emma closed the binder and put her hand over Snow’s. “Mom. I love you and dad very much. Killian and I have talked this over, and there’s something I want to ask you.”

“Oh? What’s that? I have more magazines back at the--”

“What we would really like is if we could, well, borrow a few lines from your vows.” 

Snow’s eyes widened. “Oh, Emma. Of course.” 

“Thank you. Now you’ll have to let us show you where we’re going to have it; I need your help on where everybody ought to stand.” 

“Oh? But….” She looked deflated. 

“And we’re thinking snowbells for the flowers, do you think we can find any here at this time of year?”

“Really?” Snow brightened. “That’s such a lovely thought! I’m sure we can arrange it. Even if your father has to mount an expedition to the Enchanted Forest to find them.” 

“Great!” Emma got up, and was relieved when her mother followed suit. “Once the sun is properly up, we can all go out and look around. Why don’t you and dad meet us for lunch and we’ll all talk about it? Okay? Great! See you then.” 

Emma saw the door closed, locked, and the deadbolt on for added measure, then collected the tray of coffee things and headed for the stairs and her waiting pirate. 

 

*

 

Before any of their plans could become reality, they had to get through the town’s latest crisis, and then they had to pick up the pieces. When all seemed as quiet as life in Storybrooke ever was, things moved forward. 

In the meantime, the  _ Nautilus  _ came back. 

 

*

 

The last time Killian had approached the vessel, it was with uncertainty, under a dark and snow-filled sky. Now it was day, with the first hesitant breaths of spring wafting out from the forests, taking some of the edge off the Atlantic wind. The crew welcomed him more easily this time, wanting to know all about what they had missed, and talking about their next mission off in the north of Scotland. Nemo, as ever, was grace incarnate, and appeared delighted by Killian’s request. 

“If your travels permit, of course, we would be honored if you would perform the wedding.” They had discussed the alternatives, and been faced (again) with Storybrooke’s peculiar nature. Neither of them would have felt right about a church, having no affiliation to either those native to the Land Without Magic  _ or  _ the Enchanted Forest. No doubt Archie would be delighted to officiate, as the town’s JP, but….  _ The sea brought you back to me, _ Emma had said.  _ When I would have forgotten everything in New York. It’s been a part of us all along, sort of. It would be nice to make that part of the celebration? _

Killian could hardly argue, even if he wanted to. _ We do keep meeting on islands, all unknowing.  _

_ World after world, _ Emma said, and laughed, and kissed him.  _ Like having our own song. And there’s the Jolly Roger to think of. I almost feel like I’m getting a… sister in law, or something, in this deal.  _

“Of course I will,” Nemo said. “Congratulations to you both. Are you planning to hold the event at sea, then?”

“Not exactly, but I think we can secure a dispensation for the occasion, if one is required. Law in Storybrooke is a bit of a unique mixture; I doubt the mother of the bride will object to your role. And thank you,” he added with a self-deprecating smile. “We had an inauspicious beginning, you and I, but I hope we can now call it friendship.” It had become something of a pattern in his life the past two years. 

“Of course we can. A far better course than the reverse.” Nemo smiled. “I wish you both all the happiness you can bear, and excitement when you need respite.  If there is anything I can do in the meantime, you have only to ask.” 

“Thank you.” He hesitated. “There is one thing on which I could use your advice, at least. It’s to do with your first officer, as you might surmise.”

Nemo took a seat and gestured for Killian to do the same. 

“We would like to have him at the wedding. However, I don’t know if he would want to be there, and I would prefer not to put him in the position of saying no.” 

“Ah.” Nemo raised his eyebrows. “Diplomatic.” 

“I have reason to be aware of how long such scars can linger. Even if one is determined to put them aside.” 

“He has had some advantages since then, which you were not afforded. Our travels have given him something of a reflective nature, but he is still quite young. I think coming to Storybrooke has opened his eyes in some ways.” 

“I know. But I want to leave the decision in his hands. An unsuspected brother is one thing; an entire family quite another.” He wondered what the other Liam would have made of all of this, whether he would know, wherever he was. 

“So it is,” Nemo said with understanding emphasis. “For this match more than some, I would imagine.” 

“Fortunately, titles aren’t much of a consideration in this realm.” He didn’t precisely forget that Emma was a princess; he had more than once thought that she would have made a splendid queen. Though even if they had been in the Enchanted Forest, no doubt Emma would have done as she wished. Her mother had married a shepherd, after all, even if he wore a prince’s clothing.

Nemo’s look suggested gentle skepticism, but he let that stand. “Even without royal obligations, it is a large and complicated world into which you enter. She has a son, for one thing.” 

“Aye. Henry and I have had our rocky moments,” Killian acknowledged. “He lost his father last year, under difficult circumstances, and the year since then has been… something of a trial for all of us, I think. Trust me, I am under no illusions regarding my experience in these realms. He’s a brave lad, and he wants to do what’s right. He wants his mother to be happy, as well.” 

“That speaks well of him, as your concern does of you. I’m sure he’s a fine young man, and you’ll find your way together.” He clapped Killian on the shoulder as he stood. “I will convey your invitation to Liam, and I look forward to seeing both of you on the happy occasion. Let me know when the arrangements are made.” 

 

* 

 

The answer to Emma’s prayers swept through the flower-carved portal that still stood in the Sorcerer’s Mansion and brought an unseasonal snow shower with her.

“I am SO sorry about the snow, I wasn’t sure if this was the right house,” she said as soon as Emma opened her front door. 

“Elsa?” 

“Yes, it’s me.” She smiled sheepishly. “In the flesh! I asked a few people in town and just hoped they had good directions. You know, this town is larger than it looks.”

“It certainly is. But it’s so good to see you! Come on in.” 

“This is a big change from your parents’ spare room.” Elsa looked around the living room. She had traded in her usual blue for a richly embroidered skirt and bodice of deep summery green. She didn’t look older, exactly, to Emma’s eyes, but more settled in herself than she had last time they met. 

“It is that. More space than I think we realized at the time.” Emma made a rueful face. “We’re still finding furniture. Kilian’s out getting groceries with Henry, they should be back in a little bit. What brings you to Storybrooke? Is everything all right in Arendelle?”

“Oh, everything is fine. As a matter of fact, I came to see you.” 

“Me?” 

“Yes, you.” Elsa laughed. “You look so surprised! When I hear that my best friend is getting married, what else was I supposed to do?”

“News has spread that far?”

“My dear, I doubt there’s a realm of any importance that hasn’t gotten it.” She cocked her head impishly. “When a certain infamous pirate is spotted in Agrabrah with a certain companion, buying a  _ ring  _ with a great deal of concentration and a shocking lack of haggling, you can be assured that the word gets around. Slowly,” she added, “and largely by bird, but it does. So I thought I would get to work on that portal and come see for myself. I’m so happy for you!”

“Thanks.” She displayed the ring in question, pleased and a bit sheepish about it. “It was quite the shopping trip, as it turned out.” 

“I can’t wait to hear all about it. Tell me everything I’ve missed.” 

“That covers a lot of territory,” Emma said with feeling. “How about I make some hot chocolate? Let’s see, when you left was that before or after Belle banished Gold? Yeah, things stayed quiet for a whole six weeks after that, and then all hell broke loose. Literally.” 

The story took a long while, and Elsa spent most of it wide-eyed. 

“...And that’s how we’ve spent the last, uh, six months. So.” Emma coughed. “How’ve you been?”

“That’s an amazing story. I haven’t done anything more exciting than negotiate a trade deal since we got back.” 

“That sounds heavenly. It has been quiet lately, though, and all I ask is that it stays that way for a few more weeks.” 

“You’ve certainly earned some peace and quiet. So, how can I help? My sister’s wedding wasn’t that long ago, so it’s all fresh in my mind.” She grinned. 

Surprise by the depth of her relief, Emma smiled back. “We’re trying really hard to keep things simple. The ceremony is going to be small, and my parents are planning the reception. They’ve been dying to help with something, and they’re old hands at catering for five thousand.” 

“Five thousand?!”

“By the time they got done with the guest list, at least half the town was on it, so Killian and I thought we might as well just invite everyone. But I am going to need help with a few things, and if you’re okay with staying for a while, maybe you could…?”

“I would be happy to,” Elsa said. “You’ll have to fill me in what’s customary for this world.”

“Thanks.” Emma gave her a relieved smile. “There isn’t much. I just need to find a dress and stuff. And now that I’m doing it, I don’t know really where to start. It seems sort of unreal.” She was going to get married. She and Killian, getting married. Spending the rest of their lives together. 

“I can imagine. When do you want to get started?” She sounded so eager that Emma had to smile. 

“No time like the present?” 

They left a note for Emma’s family and walked downtown, walked all over downtown three or four times, all told, and then took a break for lunch at Granny’s. Elsa greeted Ruby with delight there.

“You’ll have to tell me all about Oz soon,” Elsa said. “And about Dorothy, of course!”

“Of course.” Ruby grinned. “We’re not sure how long we’ll be staying in town, but she wanted to meet my family and everything, so we’ll probably be around for a while. In the meantime, what can I get you?”

Once their orders had arrived, “I really must find some way to introduce our chef to these,” Elsa said, sipping her milkshake. “But finish what you were saying, please.” 

“I think it’s just that I never really thought that I would ever get married,” Emma said. “I dunno, maybe when I was a kid, like  _ really  _ little. Not after I had any idea what it meant. I never thought about it with me in it.” Another dream discarded between one temporary home and the next. 

Elsa grimaced. “I’ve obviously thought about it -- I am queen, after all -- but there’s no rush.” She shrugged. “I’m likely to have a niece or nephew soon enough to content anyone concerned about the succession.” 

“Oh god, at least I don’t have to worry about that. There is a positive side to not having a kingdom any more.” 

“You never know, the way things change around here. But I’m so happy for you.” For an ice witch, Elsa’s smile was pure sunlight. “Now we just need to find the elusive perfect dress. What about your mother? Did she have any ideas?” 

“Oh god, does she ever. I’m afraid that if I talk to her about it, she’ll ask if I want to wear something like hers. How do you say no to that? I mean, I love her, but...”

“You’re very different people.” Elsa nodded. “We’ll keep looking, then. If I learned anything about this town on my last visit, it’s that it’s full of surprising secrets.” 

“And they usually mean disaster.” 

“I might know someone who can help,” Ruby said in passing. “You’ve been to all of the shops?”

“Yeah, and half of the internet. I don’t want to drive down to Portland, but….” 

“I’ll make an appointment for you with my friend,” Ruby said. 

“Do I know this friend?” Emma asked. 

“I doubt it.” Ruby smiled. “She keeps a low profile these days.” 

 

*

 

An embroidered hanging on the door read “Bless This House”. Beneath it, very small and fine, had been added “Seven at one blow.” Emma had done a lot of reading up on fairy tales in the past couple of years, and raised her eyebrows at Ruby, who grinned and knocked. 

A tiny, elderly, but very straight-backed woman answered the door. Iron-gray hair lay in tight, close-cropped curls, and her eyes almost disappeared into the smile lines in her dark skin as she pulled Ruby into a hug.

“Why, Ms Lucas, as I live and breathe. It’s been too long!” 

Ruby hugged her back, leaning down a bit to do so. “You don’t come to Granny’s any more.”

“You know fried food doesn’t agree with me these days.” 

“We have kale on the menu now, you know. Ada, these are my friends--you probably know Emma--and this is Queen Elsa of Arendelle.” 

“Of course I know Emma, I voted for her, didn’t I? You’re the one getting married. How do you do? I hope your charming young man is well? Please, come in,” Ada said. “Ruby said you’re in need of a dress.”

“I seem to be -- Your Majesty…?” Emma hazarded, still trying to process “charming young man.” 

“Oh, tosh, I gave that up years ago. Crowns are a bother, don’t let anyone tell you differently, young lady,” she said in an aside to Elsa, who nodded gravely. “We retired long before the curse, went back to my craft, and lived quietly in your mother’s kingdom, Emma, or as quietly as the times would allow at any rate. Melanie! Company’s here.” 

They followed Ada through the entryway and into the front room, which was fiercely tidy in a doilies-on-every-flat surface fashion. Another, sturdier old lady was busy setting out tea things. This one had either once been a red-head or had aspired to be, Emma guessed, judging by her dogged maintenance of that status now. 

“I’m sure we have some biscuits, won’t be a moment, dears. So nice of you to visit.”

“My wife,” Ada said with a fond smile. 

“My father said I must wed the hero who slew the ogres.” Melanie shrugged with a twinkle in her eyes. “What was a princess to do?”

“But that’s all ancient history now,” Ada said. “And these young people are here on business. Just pull those drapes aside, dear, and let me have look at Miss Swan.” 

Emma was starting to wish she had worn something more flattering than her usual sweater and leggings, but she stood in the light and turned a circle while Ada looked at her. The older woman’s gimlet stare slowly softened and became almost dreamy; she didn’t move for a long while, and when she did it was to hold out her hand. Melanie, who had obviously seen this before, pressed a pad and pencil upon her. Ada looked more through than at the paper, and began to sketch. 

“You can sit down now,” Melanie whispered to Emma, “she’ll be like this for a bit. Here.” She served the tea. “Ruby, dear, tell me what you’ve been up to since you came back! And tell your Granny we really must get together for cards again soon. Killian too, if he’s not too busy getting ready,” she added. “It’s the second Saturday of the month this weekend.”

Emma looked from Melanie to Ruby and back again. “You guys… are the… other card players?” 

“Best ever to roam the taverns of the Enchanted Forest, once,” Melanie said, beaming. “That was after Leopold died and the tailoring work dried up, mind, what with the reign of terror and all. I thought it was my turn to try to bring in a bit of income.” 

“Um, yeah. I can imagine that wasn’t good for business.” 

“Turned out I was pretty good at it. We play in the back room at the Rabbit Hole every other Saturday, if you ever want to join us, dear.” 

“I think I’ll pass, no offence,” Emma said. “My dad says married couples should leave each other a little bit of space for hobbies.” 

“Very wise. Are you back with us, dear?” She looked at Ada, who had emerged blinking from her inspired haze. 

“More or less. I think I have a few ideas we can work with. Let’s get some materials out, shall we?” 

Emma smiled shyly. “All right.” 

 

*

 

“A uniform made these things so much simpler.” Killian stared in some dismay at the Land Without Magic’s idea of male formal wear. “A bit dull, aren’t they?”

“A little, yeah,” David agreed. “I thought you liked black.” He gave Killian a once-over.

“Aye, but this is a special occasion.” 

“True. Maybe something like this?”

“Hm, better.”

“It’s your wedding,” Henry put in. “Do what you want.” 

His wedding. Had there ever been a time when he imagined such a thing? Long enough ago that he had forgotten, if so. Things with Milah had been different; for as much as he had loved her, and she him, there had never been much of a future to talk about. There had never been much to hope for it, in his previous lives -- battle and glory, treasure and revenge, but not hope. 

He settled on a charcoal gray suit with a vest of the deepest wine-red, and a longer coat than was usual in this world. 

“I suppose one doesn’t wear a sword to the festivities in this world.” He considered the coat’s line a touch wistfully. There was no reason to set aside everything, surely, just because they were settled in Storybrooke now.  

“That would look awesome.” Henry nodded approval. “Hey, can there be jousting and stuff? At the reception?”

“That’s a great idea!” David pulled out a battered notepad. “I’ll round up some of the old knights, we can make a proper tournament of it. And then a feast, and dancing…. You’re going to have to help with the music, Henry. I know all of the standards from our world, of course, but I’m sure there’s lot of great stuff here.” 

“Sure, grandpa.” An ill-concealed light of devilry glimmered in the boy’s eyes. “Who’s going to be the DJ?”

“Happy volunteered.” Killian shrugged. 

“Oh, and there’s the bachelor party,” David added. “Can’t forget about that.” 

“The what?”

“Hoo boy,” Henry muttered. “I’ll leave that bit to you, Grandpa. What with me not being old enough to drink.” 

 

*

  
  


In the end, they had the party at the Buoy, a decent enough dive near the waterfront. Nearly everyone Killian knew in Storybrooke turned up, and between old crew, old comrades, and the occasional old enemy under truce, they filled the place surprisingly well. 

“We could have had a ‘most outrageous lie’ contest. You almost look relaxed,” David noted, coming over as the evening began to wind down. “Looking forward to tomorrow?” 

“Indeed I am.” Killian scanned the gathering. Across the room, some of the old crew broke into a fresh round of song. Liam was talking to Smee at the bar, which someone would undoubtedly end up regretting, but on the whole the ships’ crews had mingled without incident. A small miracle, perhaps, and fit for the occasion. 

“Told you you’d have fun.”

“And it would appear that you were right.” No stranger to roistering, being the center of so much innocent goodwill was yet an unfamiliar role to Killian. He recalled a good many celebrations over many decades; most of them, in the end, had come down to the fact that they were still alive, that they had outwitted or outfought or occasionally outrun the day’s enemy. This tradition felt odd, a celebration for its own sake. He said as much to David, who laughed. 

“If we get another villain in town tonight, that’ll put things back in balance.”

“I rather wish you hadn’t said that, mate.”

“Didn’t realize you were so superstitious. Hey, it’s a little close in here. I could do with a bit of fresh air.” He cocked an eyebrow. 

“All right.” Killian could pick up a hint that broad; he slung his jacket over his shoulder and went along, curious. 

They walked down to where David had parked, neither of them speaking. David leaned on the railing and looked out at the water.

“You’re staying on the ship tonight?” he asked.

“Aye. Wouldn’t do to break with tradition,” Killian said. “Elsa has commandeered the house, regardless, for the bridal festivities.” He wondered what they were all up to and smiled at the image his mind conjured, of Emma pink-cheeked and laughing, surrounded by friends and well-wishers. He loved all of her, in every mood, of course, the fierce and the tender, but in her joyful moments she shone brighter than any star. On the morrow, he would swear to set his course by that light, for the rest of his life, and the thought brought a smile to his face. 

Eventually David said,  “I’ve been trying to think of some fatherly advice, you know. Some pithy bit of wisdom that I’ve gleaned through the years. Mostly I realized that I don’t know much. But I do know that you will be the best partner you possibly can be for my daughter.” 

“I certainly intend to.” 

“I expect nothing less. And that’s why I have to do this.” He reached into the back of the truck and pulled out a sheathed sword. 

Killian was only slightly drunk, but he certainly didn’t want to duel David in any state whatsoever. “Mate, I don’t think--”

“Just shut up for a second. It’s been a damned long time since I did this.” Weaving slightly, he drew the blade. It gleamed under the streetlights. “Kneel.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.”

“David, I really don’t think this is--”

“Do you want to marry my daughter?”

“More than anything.”

“Then let me do this. It’s long overdue anyway.” 

With decidedly mixed emotions, Killian knelt. 

“Properly you’re supposed to stand vigil for a night, but I think you’ve lost more than enough sleep, and enough blood for that matter, trying to help this family. Sometimes we were pretty ungrateful about it, too. So we’re gonna skip that part. And there won’t be an oath of fealty, because if I know you you wouldn’t do it, and also because it’s not needed. It’s the funniest thing, when I think about it, how I know, all of us know by now, that we can trust you. Rely on you to do whatever it takes, to do the right thing, no matter how hard it is. There’s no one I could be more proud to bring into this family. So.” He took the sword firmly in hand and stepped up to Killian, who hoped the prince was less tipsy than he sounded. “With this sword, I dub thee Sir Killian.” His aim was still good; the flat of the blade landed with the requisite stern thump but without actual injury. “There.” He sounded immensely satisfied. “I never did manage to give Emma very much. I just want this day to be perfect for her.” 

“I understand. Thank you.”

David extended his free hand to help Killian up, and pulled him into a surprising hug. “And next time we end up in the Enchanted Forest I’ll look through the rolls and find a title that needs looking after. And some letters of marque, make an honest privateer of you.”

“When we return, I’ll be sure to remind you of that,” Killian said with a grin. 

 

*

 

Clouds lurked on the horizon at sunrise, but they had cleared away by mid-morning, when a small group gathered on the beach. Emma’s parents, Henry, Anna and Kristoff stood on one side. On the other were Belle, Ariel and Eric, Ursula, Tinkerbell, and Liam, who had accepted his invitation readily in the end. No one had made any attempt at a uniform look. Nemo stood in the center, beaming. 

A short distance away from the gathering, Elsa gave Emma’s veil a final tweak and said, “Perfect. Ready or not?”

“More than ready.” Emma took a deep breath.

“Then here we go!” She walked ahead of Emma and took her place with Emma’s family. 

The sea and the wind were music enough. The dress left Emma’s shoulders bare, a simple silhouette above her waist that spread gently into layered petals to her ankles. Around her neck on its silver chain hung the ring Killian had given her in Camelot, a reminder of the ones who could not be there to see this morning. Forget-me-nots twined around her hairpiece, anchoring a wisp of veil that was more a nod to tradition than a cover. More of the flowers mingled with the snowdrops in her bouquet. Elsa’s gown was the same shade of blue, and she had loaned Emma earrings from the Arendelle treasury, strings of diamonds that caught the sun in columns of captive fire. 

(“My mother wore these for formal events,” she had said with a smile. “They’re perfect for you.”) 

The sea breeze played with Emma’s hair, loosely knotted at the nape of her neck, and whipped her skirts for a moment, then died away as she walked down the gentle slope. Her parents blotted away tears. Henry held to a fierce adolescent solemnity, but the edges of his mouth curled. Emma smiled back at him, and finally let her gaze settle on her waiting groom. She knew that look of pure happiness, that for him there was nothing else in this moment but the sight of her. She grinned back at him. The joy in her heart grew with every step, a deeper magic than anything she had ever known, until they were side by side. 

Emma knew they were going to have thousands of photographs to remember the day by, but none would capture the blue-blue-blue of the sky and the sea and his eyes, shining with love for her. Pictures wouldn’t catch the bright cold spring air, or the texture of Killian’s hand in hers, or the length of the moment they spent simply looking at one another before Nemo’s gentle cough brought their attention back to the formalities. 

“If I may? Gentlefolk of many realms, we are gathered here for a blessed occasion,” he began. “And one that gives me great joy to be a part of. Not only the joining of two individuals for whom we all have both great esteem and great affection, but for what this represents: a triumph of hope, of love, and of faith. 

“Difficult though it can be at times to remember, life itself is the great adventure. The quietest hour need never be dull if the ones we love are with us, nor can the most terrible straits overcome us while we hold to them. I think you know the latter,” he added with a smile, “through hard experience. I hope you will soon have the former as well. Now,” his gesture invited them to face one another. Henry produced the rings, simple bands of silver and gold. “Do you, Emma, take this man to be your wedded husband, and to love him for all eternity...?”

 

*

 

Invitations had gone by mermaid, by magic mirror, and by bird for the past several weeks. Emma found that her new wand was more than adequate for creating portals; the center of town sparkled with magic and the finery of the arriving guests. The reception was theoretically at the town hall and environs, but it spilled out of the building, onto the lawn, and down the street. Sub-parties spawned and stretched until all of Storybrooke seemed in the grip of revelry. Music from a dozen realms floated through the streets, awaiting no formal ceremony, but in the flower-bedecked hall Emma took Killian’s hand. The cheers when they kissed brought a new flush to her cheeks, but then the music started and she forgot about their audience. 

The afternoon blurred after that. There was music, food, more music, street theater, and always the dancing. The Mad Hatter danced with Maleficent; the Knave of Hearts danced with the queen of Camelot; Granny Lucas danced with Gepetto. Ursula danced with everyone, up to eight at a time. Emma danced with her father, with Poseidon (“Olympus sends their felicitations”), with Elsa, and with her new brother-in-law, whose smile had lost some of its uncertainty by the time they finished. And she and Killian danced -- she lost count of how many times, dances she knew from this world, and dances she was coming to know from others -- until Emma’s feet hurt, and she was breathless from laughter and exertion. She didn’t want to stop. As the sky began to hint at evening’s approach, the music slowed, and they met again at the center of the floor. 

“Was it Henry or my dad who put the Chicken Dance on the playlist?” Emma asked, taking his hand. She had last seen her son in a group of friends from school, all dancing together, a far cry from the shy loner she had met that long-ago October night. She knew for a fact that it was Henry who suggested “The Macarena.”  

“I have no idea to what you’re referring, love.” Killian winked as he slipped his arm around her waist. He had lost his jacket at some point in the day. 

“A likely story.” The lights dimmed; a waltz began to play. Emma half-closed her eyes, savoring the moment. “What do you think of the adventure so far?”

“Best one yet. Believe I have a partner who knows what she’s doing.” 

Emma laughed. “I guess we’ll find out.” They fell easily into step. Her hair had long since come loose from its knot, Ruby had caught her bouquet at some point in the long afternoon of merry-making, and she honestly had no idea what had happened to her hairpiece. Her feet were sore and the hem of her dress was dusty, and she could still hardly stop smiling. “I could get used to being this happy.”

“I certainly hope you will. It’s been a marvelous day, every moment.” He raised his hand for Emma to do a turn under it. 

“Time to make our getaway, then, while the party is still in full swing,” she said.

“Soon. I believe your father has arranged transport.” 

“They certainly did a good job with the party. I don’t think anyone will even notice we’ve gone.” 

“That anxious to get away?”

“What if I was?” She looked up at him, teasing. 

“Just a few measures more.” 

She felt more than heard the words, a vibration that ran through her hand where it rested on his shoulder. They melted into one another as the musicians gave their final flourish - and then struck up a new tune, a fast-paced group dance from the Enchanted Forest. The bride and groom made their escape to wild applause, and then the dancing went on. Outside, they found that David had arranged a horse-drawn carriage to take them down to the waterfront and the waiting ship.

As the carriage drew up near the dock, Henry bounded down the  _ Jolly Roger _ ’s gangplank and threw a credible salute. 

“Luggage all stowed, captain, mom. And enough cake to last a few days at least.”

“Thanks, Henry.” Emma gave him a fierce hug. “You sure you’ll be okay while we’re gone?”

“We’ll be fine, I promise. And we’ll make sure things stay in good form here,” he added. “You guys deserve some time to yourselves.” 

Emma’s immediate family and a handful of others had followed the carriage to see them off. They waved as the couple boarded the ship. 

“See you in a month!” Emma called from the deck.

“A month?” Archie sounded surprised.

“That’s why they call it a honey  _ moon _ ,” Snow told him, waving as the couple cast off. “Take your time!”

As the ship pulled away, Emma asked, “Where should we go first?”

“Out of earshot from the shore?” He grinned. “And then, why, wherever the wind takes us.”

“I like the sound of that.” Emma twined her arm around his waist. He kissed her temple.. Ahead of them, the eastern horizon was banded in deep violet; above, the stars had begun to come out. “Bring on the adventure.” 

 

* * *


End file.
